The Sparrow Suite
by Red Garden Gnome
Summary: Charlie Weasley and Hermione Granger can't stand each other, not one bit. This feeling may have been compounded by the fact that she broke his nose. However, when the duo accepts dual teaching positions at Hogwarts, a relationship forms then deepens. Meanwhile, a Forbidden Forest mystery unfolds. Non-epilogue compliant.
1. A Broken Nose

**The Sparrow Suite**

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 **A/N** : I posted the first three chapters of this story a while back but hit a massive roadblock in Chapter 4 and never continued. However, I feel like I found a way to push forward with this so I'm posting it again. The previous title of the story was "A Tornado of Roses" but I renamed it to "The Sparrow Suite." This is a Charlie/Hermione romance story that starts in 1999, just a little over a year after the Battle of Hogwarts. It's canon compliant though ignores the Epilogue. I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 1: A Broken Nose

This was not how Charlie Weasley imagined his day would start out: With a broken and bloody nose. And he was thoroughly pissed off at the witch who caused it: None other than Hermione Granger. Was it too much to ask that he have some peace and quiet whilst the dragons from Romania were transferred over to Northumberland, marking this as one of the few times he had off from work? It apparently was as the Burrow was brimming with members of his own kin, Harry Potter, and of course, the Girl-Who-Caused-My-Broken-Nose-Granger.

The war was over and Voldemort had finally been defeated by none other than Harry himself. Their final confrontation was held in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had been a horrific final encounter for those who opposed his rule and the Death Eaters that supported it. The cost was great as many lives had been taken that fateful night, including Fred Weasley.

In the months following his defeat, the wizarding community tried to reestablish their way of life, something that was nearly destroyed by Voldemort's rise to power. The Ministry of Magic was in shambles, their population had deteriorated by vast numbers, and the ancient school of magic was a ruin of its former self. It was a large undertaking, a task that would take many months, if not several years, for total recuperation.

With Kingsley Shacklebolt as interim Minister, efforts to rebuild were in full swing. Many available hands reported to repair the damage the war left in its wake. However, things were far from normal as witches and wizards were slow to break ground into what had been a fruitful past.

That was one year ago and the wizarding establishment in Great Britain was returning to a small sense of normalcy although the presence of dark witches and wizards whispered in the dark.

"Charlie, you're going to have to hold still," Mrs. Weasley said. The dragon tamer had a hard time following her directions for anger was coursing through his very veins. His hands had balled into fists at the pain that Granger girl had put him through so early in the morning and was putting a damper on what he had hoped to be a fine day of relaxation. "I can't fix your nose unless you stop moving!" His mum now had her hands on her hips, irritated that her second-oldest son was acting like a four-year-old nuisance. In reality, Charlie was twenty-seven.

He seethed at the kitchen table, forcing himself to take several deep breaths to calm his inner core though it was still raging inside of him like a monster trying to break free – evidence of the famous, or infamous, Weasley temper.

"She had no right, no right at all, to slam open the front door like that! I mean, what kind of mental witch does that anyway," he said grumpily.

"If you must know, Hermione had another row with your youngest brother," Mrs. Weasley answered, her hands still on her hips.

"So she has to throw open the door like that?!"

"I'm sure she didn't see you dear, but if you cannot hold still, I'll have you fix your own nose!" Hearing an edge to his mother's tone along with a fury that bubbled in her gaze, Charlie finally took control of himself though his thoughts spiraled into overdrive.

 _So apparently I'm the loser in her row with Ron. Yes, how fair life was! I'm just an innocent bloke, a bystander who planned on charming some witches over in Diagon Alley. Instead, I'm still at home waiting for my nose to be fixed!_

"Charlie, you need to calm down," his mother tried to placate. "It's just a broken nose, an easy fix. Though I must say that Hermione had to have used all of her strength to open the door like that. You have multiple fractures." She flicked her wand at him while adding, "That poor girl."

"Mum, she didn't just open the front door, she slammed it. And poor girl…really? I wasn't aware she had anything broken that needed to be fixed."

"Well that's where you're wrong. She probably has a broken heart as I know she hates fighting with Ron. You would think with the two of them being together for over a year now that they would've found some common ground. Apparently with those two, bickering is their common ground," she sighed.

"What's it been? Like every day since I've been back they've fought? They're like annoying schoolchildren."

Mrs. Weasley decided not to answer for she pointed her wand at her son's nose again and waved it in a short pattern. Charlie then felt a certain warmth blanket his nose before it turned icy cold.

"There," she announced with a curt nod. "That should do the trick."

"Thanks," he murmured, touching his newly-mended nose. He stood to his feet, stretching his arms high over his head. "Don't you think it's time for the two of them to marry off and start a family of their own? You know, somewhere far, far away from the Burrow?" In reality, he knew they were a bit young to get married but all he cared for was to distance himself from Hermione. And if it took a bout of marriage to accomplish that, then Charlie would minister the ceremony himself.

"Stop that talk," she scolded sternly. "She's only twenty! And Ron's still nineteen! Harry and Ginny are more than I can handle at the moment."

"In her case then, that's a decade older to know better than to slam open doors in other people's faces."

"You leave her alone, understood?" Mrs. Weasley had resumed her initial position with her hands on her hips. "She doesn't need another Weasley to argue with!"

"I've been around witches like her before and they're all the same: Bad news. I have nothing more to say to her."

Mrs. Weasley let out a heavy sigh and shook her head, seemingly to decide to let the subject matter drop for the time being.

"How about you make yourself useful and de-gnome the garden."

"Mum, can you tell me exactly what I'm being punished for," he groaned loudly. "I have plans!"

However, Charlie instantly backed down when his mother threw him one of her trademark glares, a dire warning that her words were not to be questioned. Admitting defeat, he rolled his eyes and walked out of the kitchen feeling both angry and downright annoyed at the frivolous chore his mum had tasked him with.

Stepping out in the warm July air, Charlie craned his neck to the left and right, satisfied upon hearing several _cracks_ when he did so. He took a deep breath and smiled at the senses that invaded his nasal passages. A slight smile then crept over his face as his mind roamed over to one particular witch who worked in Diagon Alley. If all went well later that day, Charlie certainly had no plans of sleeping in his own bed that night.

His goodwill was short-lived, however, for at that moment, his eyes fell upon Hermione - the witch who had a bash in causing the physical pain of others in her warpath, namely that of broken noses. She was sitting against the trunk of a tree nestled some yards away with her arms wrapped protectively around her middle. Her eyes had an unfocused look about them as her thoughts appeared to be scattered.

Wanting an apology for his early-morning distress, Charlie marched over to her, ignoring his mother's admonition of leaving her be. The grass crunched underneath his shoes as a slight wind raced over him, rippling his white shirt over his muscled form in small waves.

Upon his arrival, she looked up at him and rolled her eyes. For some reason he couldn't explain, this greatly annoyed him. He folded his arms over his chest and looked down at her, waiting patiently. He didn't care if he wasn't welcome. In fact, he would've preferred that standing before her was raking on Hermione's last nerve.

"Can I help you," she asked frostily.

"I would like for you to apologize," he responded curtly.

She scoffed, standing to her feet. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. All I want is a simple act of contrition."

"Act of contrition," she sneered. "Did you have to look that up before you came over?"

"I'm not leaving until I hear it." He stared over at her, a pillar of fury burning inside him.

"And why, exactly, would I do that?"

He snorted, "You broke my nose. Or didn't you near the various cracks over your wild ranting?"

"I was not ranting," she responded loudly. "And I wasn't aware that I had to apologize for blatant stupidity!"

"Blatant stupidity," he parroted, his voice raising several octaves. "How on earth did you reach that silly conclusion?"

"You clearly had time to move out of the way! I saw you approach the front door when I was coming down the stairs!"

"That is…that's not…listen, are you going to apologize or not?" He stammered over his words, cursing himself as he did so. Though it was foggy, he did remember pausing before entering the Burrow as he heard Hermione and Ron trade insults with each other, something he had found rather amusing.

"I'm not apologizing for something that could've been prevented on your part!"

"Well good because I'm not apologizing either!"

He stomped away, realizing that his last statement made absolutely no sense. He surely didn't have to say sorry to Hermione for he was, after all, the victim in this case. With his temper now reach scorching levels, the sun feeding a flame to the fire, he barely noticed his sister pass by him. She shot him a death glare while tacking on, "You can be so callous sometimes, you know that?" He turned his head and watched Ginny make her way towards Hermione, the pair resuming the latter's position of sitting against the tree he had just left. The branches provided them with lamps of shade.

He fumed as he went over to the Weasley garden, a large plotted area near the kitchen window where wild, thorn-ridden weeds coexisted with a flurry of multi-colored flowers and rambles of bushes. A wooden fence squared the perimeter. Crooked trees dotted a row along a low-stone wall while a neighborhood of grass stood waist-high. Frogs rioted a nearby pond, _croaking_ loudly. They huddled near green lily pads.

Bending forward, Charlie thrust his hand in a random bush. In his first attempt, he managed to grab eight gnomes at once. Their hard and bony feet kicked out at him, each one resembling something close to a potato with arms and legs. They all wore masks of outrage at being manhandled to the degree of Charlie hurling them as far as he could. Some of the creatures slammed into the trunks of scattered trees in the distance while others were swallowed by the leaves of high-standing limbs. On his second attempt, Charlie took hold of seven more as gnomes were not known for being very bright. They popped out of their gnomeholes to see what the commotion was about.

As he turned to grab another handful, a large, ginger cat suddenly jumped onto his back, surprising him. The feline then targeted a nearby bush that was actively moving about, it seeming to host an entire tribe of gnomes. Crookshanks dove for the underbrush, its bottleneck tail perked straight into the air. Its yellow eyes glowed as it pawed the scrub's thickness. Suddenly, nearly a dozen gnomes scattered out from under the bush, running in all different directions. Their high-pitched laugher mingled together like a young girls' choir. Crookshanks raced after them as Charlie shook his head and got back to work. It was as if he couldn't escape Hermione's supposed wrath against him for now her own cat was intent on attacking him.

The de-gnoming became more vicious as Charlie now bore a multitude of teeth marks on his fingers. He cursed each bite he bore. He took a short break, standing upright and cracking his back. His mind though wandered over to Hermione and his little sister, he having no doubt they were conversing over her and Ron's latest blowup, of Charlie's broken nose, or the accompanying spat he shared with her several minutes after the fact.

He didn't really think he had asked for a whole lot from the young witch, just a simple apology would've been more than sufficient. Yet she was strong-headed, a trait many witches his age lacked. This was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it was easy to have a late-night rendezvous end in a long snogging session accompanied by a hour-long shag (this would obviously be before another early-morning quickie, Charlie's specialty according to a large number of birds). However, now that he was older and aging each minute that ticked by, he wanted to find a girl he could talk to and connect with on a personal level. Someone who he wanted to spend his time with. A bird that could challenge him and he her on wide array of topics.

Presently, most of the witches he spent time with began and ended their vocabulary with words that described his outward appearance and was usually one syllable. Conversing with them was like pulling teeth. The most fascinating thing about these birds was their yelps of pleasure as he drilled into them over and over. His favorite was spending the night with a girl who spoke broken English. She did things to him that he didn't think was possible. Of course, he dropped her when she began snooping for something long-term. He sometimes wondered if he was ever meant to settle down and became grumpy whenever the thought clouded his mind.

This was a stark contrast to Ginny who was currently engaged to Harry. Their wedding was set to take place next week on the grounds of the Burrow. While he was happy for his little sister, thrilled even, he did harbor a small ounce of shame that she was set to be married long before he was, if he ever took the plunge at all. His mum reminded him heartily of that, not that he needed nor wanted any such tip-off. And his older brother Bill took the mickey out of him as well every time he saw him.

He sighed as he grabbed his last handful of gnomes and chucked each of them absent-mindedly. He huffed with displeasure when Hermione and Ginny's giggling carried in the wind.

Hermione, naturally, was set to be Ginny's Maid of Honor while Ron was due as Harry's Best Man. Charlie considered the wedding to make for an interesting show if the couple hadn't patched up their latest round of fighting which really was becoming a bothersome irritation. He figured that they literally fought over everything, from Ron's wild eating habits to Hermione's constant worrying over her future. She was set to start Healer training within the coming weeks. It made Charlie wonder why they even stayed together at all seeing that they didn't have much in common (other than always having a go at one another).

Just as Charlie was about to fling his last gnome, Hermione's laughter, sounding as if it was right behind him, startled him, making him slacken his grasp so that he gnome crashed through the kitchen window instead. It shattered into thousands of tiny splinters before they buried themselves like treasure in the garden.

"Nice going, Charlie," a voice that belonged to Ginny said. He whipped around only to see Hermione fighting down a smile.

"Something funny," he fumed over at her.

"Ginny and I were rating your throwing abilities before. She said that you were good but I disagreed. I think you just proved my point. He far was that toss? Five feet?"

"Like you could do much better." He then shot her a mocking smile and challenged, "I'm surprised you even know what tossing is."

Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione tilted her head towards him knowingly before entering into the Burrow. Ginny smiled and waved at him as she followed.

"She thinks she's bloody funny, doesn't she," he asked himself aloud. "What I would give to prove her wrong."

However, Hermione reappeared, the struggling gnome firmly in her grasp. She stepped into the garden and paused directly in front of Charlie. They stared at each other, their noses nearly touching. Charlie felt his pulse quicken. She then spun around, spread her feet, and started spinning the gnome over her head. Upon her release, Charlie felt his jaw drop open as the small creature was launched far in the distance. Its flailing body looked like a small fairy against the horizon. While it wasn't nearly as far as he had thrown them, Charlie was nevertheless stunned at Hermione's trial. She then took out her wand and waved it, repairing the kitchen window.

"You look disappointed," she stated when she turned back around to face him. He noticed they were awfully close to one another.

Ignoring this, he snapped his mouth shut as he drew up the hem of white t-shirt and wiped his face free of the rivers of sweat that raced down his cheeks. When he finished, he let his top fall back into position though he caught Hermione staring at his exposed physique.

Smiling nastily, he ripped his shirt off and tossed it directly in Hermione's face. She caught it in shock.

"And you look surprised," he traded back. As he walked away from her, he called out, "Feel free to keep it! It'll pleasure you far more than anyone else can!"

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Dinner that night was a boisterous affair, much like it was every night at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had cooked up a hearty meal which was being consumed greedily by the kitchen table's occupants.

Ron was grabbing at everything in sight, small bits and pieces of food flying from where he sat. Charlie was situated across from Ginny who was sandwiched between Harry and Hermione, the latter of who kept shooting disgusted looks at her significant other.

"I vas finking vat 'e 'ould splay some 'idditch vafter din-dinur," Ron said incoherently over to Charlie, his mouth full of crushed food. He burped loudly after.

"Ronald Weasley," his mother scolded. "Have some manners, please!"

While Ginny cringed, looking away at the ghastly site, Hermione reprimanded, "And could you please not talk with your mouth full?"

Before he could retaliate, Charlie jumped in, "Leave the poor bloke alone. It's not like you're his wife or anything."

She glared over at him and responded, "Excuse me, Charles, but I wasn't aware that I was talking to you."

"And who do you think you're calling Charles? My name is Charlie." Oh, how he hated to be called _Charles_. It soured him like eating a bogey flavor out of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"This is me pretending to care," she replied simply, turning back to Ron to chastise him again over his wild eating routine.

"You know," Charlie interrupted before Hermione could go off on a tirade he could sense was building inside her, "maybe if you were a bit nicer, you and Ron wouldn't fight so much. I mean, seriously, how old do you claim to be?"

Hermione looked as if she had been hit with a Stinging hex, stunning her into complete silence. She stared across the table at Charlie. For a split second, he triumphed at this though this feeling faded when small bouts of hurt bloomed in her eyes. He suddenly felt unsure if he had overstepped a boundary with her. It wasn't like he was still angry at her for breaking his nose – his failed attempt to charm the witch he fancied in Diagon Alley depleted his livid, early-morning state - even if she hadn't apologized.

He stabbed at his lamb while Hermione didn't speak another word for the rest of the meal, making the Weasley kitchen table off balance. One end was alive with talk and laughter while the other resembled a funeral arrangement. The only elements missing were a coffin, flowers, and condolences.

After dinner had been squandered, the family retired to the living room sans Ron and Hermione. Charlie had no doubt that the two were making up with each other via a fresh snogging session.

 _Such schoolchildren_ , he grumbled.

Charlie's mind, however, was still playing over the small sense of hurt that had gathered over Hermione's face after his throwaway comment to her. He wasn't haunted by it but more uneasy. Through it all, he was aggravated with himself wondering why he should care over how his comment made her feel.

"How's your nose," came the voice of Bill, breaking Charlie out of his silent muse.

He laughed once as he answered, "Fixed."

"Hermione got you good then, huh?"

"You could bloody well say that," he returned. "She definitely knows how to throw open front doors."

Bill grinned as Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Fleur were huddled together on the floor of the living area feet from the fireplace. They were discussing the upcoming wedding.

"Seems to be a fire-breather," Bill tested. "Kind of like you."

"No…no, no, no, no, and no. Absolutely not. I have nothing in common with her and could care less about her and what she does."

"Touched a nerve, haven't I?"

"What're you talking about?"

Bill shrugged. "You got all red just a second ago."

"I did not."

"You did too."

"Bill, c'mon and listen to yourself! You're talking crazy nonsense about some fairytale in your head. Nothing is going on between me and Hermione."

"Charlie, don't be so dimwitted. I said nothing of the sort nor did I insinuate it," he added hastily after he saw Charlie open his mouth in protest. "I don't hang around here enough to calculate what Hermione's feelings, if any, toward you are but I think you have a soft spot for her somewhere inside of you."

"And what brought you to that conclusion being that, what were your words, _don't hang around here enough_?" Charlie crossed his arms over his chest.

"I saw how you interacted at dinner," he told him. "You guys kind of go out of the way to pick on each other."

"And you think that means I have a soft spot for her? Mate, you couldn't be more wrong. I don't ever act like that towards the witches that bring me to their places for one-two action spectacular."

"Oh, right," Bill nodded. "And these are the same witches you complain about being so barmy. Those ones?"

"Look at you, trying to play matchmaker! Breaking ancient curses got a bit boring for you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," Bill responded. "But you are behind a bit when it comes to relationships. I'm sure you know that."

"Mum doesn't remind me enough, actually," Charlie remarked bitterly.

"Well you do want to settle down, don't you?"

"Eventually, yes. I just haven't found the right one yet."

"You never know. You could've found her and just don't know it."

Charlie let out a heavy sigh and said, "Not going on again about Hermione, are you? In case you didn't know, she and Ron are a couple of sorts."

"Then I'm glad you think the two are made for each other."

Charlie cocked his head to one side in puzzlement. "What are you on about?"

"When mum was telling me of your broken nose, she let slip that Ron and Hermione fight, a lot."

"They do. And? Do you have a point?"

"Just that healthy relationships don't involve a squabble every day. Yes, there are some here and there but the amount of bickering they do, according to mum at least, makes me wonder if they're the perfect match or not."

At this, Charlie barked out a laugh, though no one in the nearby vicinity paid it any attention. "Look at you, Bill! Gossiping about our youngest brother and his girl! Never knew you had it in you!"

"I don't do those side chitchats. I do help a brother in need though."

"For the last time, I do not have a soft spot for Hermione. I never had and never will. You said so yourself that we go out of our way to pick on each other."

"You do which is vastly different from what she and Ron partake in, again based on what mum's been telling me."

Charlie shook his head from side to side, letting out a long breath in disbelief that Bill was seemingly trying to make him believe that Hermione held a place deep inside his inner being.

"Listen, Charlie, I'm your older brother-,"

"Thank you for reminding me. I seemed to have forgotten that over the past minute or so."

"And I want what's best for you," Bill continued as if there had been no interruption. "I'm not saying that Hermione is _the one_ for you or anything but I feel like it would do you well to stop having these one-night flings and maybe open your eyes a bit more. Some birds might surprise you."

"Weren't you the one to tell me to go out and live a little?"

"Charlie, you're twenty-seven! Yeah, bachelorhood might appeal to you now but what about in five years or ten? Are you sure you'll still be invested in the flavor of the week then?"

"Trust me Bill, I've tried telling myself that ever since I heard that Ginny was going to tie the knot. But no one, even back in Romania, jumped out at me. Yes, they look good and all but there's nothing past the heavy makeup and bedroom smiles."

"Love doesn't always skip out to you. Sometimes, it's more of a slow burn, making you seek out the fire before you feel the flames."

"Words from the wise, I take it?"

"Nah, just some strung-together rubbish," he relayed, making both of them smile. Seeing his wife yawn behind her hand, he then stated, "Well, looks like it's time for me to get Fleur home. I'm a bit tired myself."

Charlie nodded once before giving Bill a half-hearted wave of his hand.

"Don't beat yourself up too much about this. You'll find what you're after. Just be patient and give it a little time," he said, standing to his feet.

Charlie nodded in understanding as Bill went over and helped Fleur to her feet. The duo then bid their farewells to the family and apparated to their home, Shell Cottage.

George and Percy then signified their departure, the latter of who was helping out at _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_ , the joke shop the twins had initially put together. Percy took the blame for Fred's death as he was fighting right alongside of him when the explosion occurred. This was his way of making remittances with his mental state. The two roomed together above the store in Diagon Alley though Percy stressed his involvement was temporary. Only until George could find a suitable partner to continue on with. Percy still had ambitions to work his way up the Ministry of Magic ladder to a prominent position though he seemed to abolish the idea of gaining superiority in the magical government.

Ginny then headed upstairs, eyeing Charlie rather beadily. He held her stare, wondering what her thoughts were. Harry and Mr. Weasley followed soon after.

"Charlie, you best be up to bed now," Mrs. Weasley said. "You look like you could use some shut-eye."

"I think I'm going to stay up a bit, maybe down a cup of tea or something," he replied, feeling that his mind needed a bit of relaxation and alone time after conversing with Bill.

"Okay but be a good lad and don't stay up half the night," she chided softly.

"Sure thing. 'Night mum."

"Good night, honey," she smiled before taking herself away.

Charlie moved into the kitchen and waved his wand, bringing a kettle of water to a boil. He stood there silently and waited. The darkness pressed against the newly-constructed window Hermione had put back together some hours earlier. As he waved down a mug from a nearby cabinet, he thought over just how far she had thrown the last gnome. A smile played against him as he remembered the creature's spinning arms and legs. Memories of his dad taking him and Bill to a Muggle circus suddenly reeled inside of him.

He then sighed over Bill's prior comments that he, Charlie Weasley, had some sort of soft spot for Hermione. He gathered that that was the most utterly ridiculous statement Bill had ever made, and that was saying something. It was quite illogical as well since Charlie never thought much about Hermione. After all, they didn't know each other a great deal and hadn't got on well either. Them picking on one another was the length of their usual conversations, anchoring no depth or symmetry. It wasn't as if he particularly enjoyed his spats with her but looked on it as more of a moral obligation to knock her down a peg or two. She knew way too much for her own good.

When the kettle began to scream, piercing the stillness reverberating from the silence of the home, he poured his mug to its brim, dipped in a tea bag, and took a loud sip. He hummed as the contents raced down his throat, feeling like he was replenished of an energy that had been stolen from him some time ago.

He then started to make his way back in the living area, heading towards the couch he and Bill had previously occupied, when he abruptly ran into an object of sorts, one that was made up of bushy brown hair. His mug turned over in his hands, dousing his front in a scalding heat.

"Bugger!" he yelled, jumping back in agony. He let the cup slip through his fingers where it exploded over the wooden floor of the kitchen. His shirt had started to gather a large tea stain.

He trained his eyes on the witch in question and stated furiously, "A broken nose wasn't good enough for you so you had to spill hot tea all over me?"

"If you were looking where you were going, maybe that wouldn't have happened," Hermione snapped with equal ferocity. Her features looked as if they had been combed over carefully, a tactic Charlie knew well from birds who smoothed themselves out after a rough shag. This supported his earlier theory that she and Ron had partook in a rather wild snogging session after dinner. For some reason, this bothered him.

He pushed these thoughts from his mind as he fired back, "You weren't looking where you were going either so this is mainly your fault! In fact you're entirely to blame. In case you didn't get the memo, in this household," he pointed a finger toward where the broken teacup remnants remained, "we usually wait for anyone inside the kitchen to exit before piling through the doorway!"

Hermione let out a humorless laugh before responding, "Show me the written-down rules where that's stated because that has to be one of the most absurd things I have ever heard."

"It's not a rule, it's called being courteous," he growled, feeling his temper soar. "A word I'm sure you know next to nothing about."

"Excuse you but I know exactly what the word necessitates. It's just your clumsiness that always gets in the way and you fault me for it because you have no sense of responsibility!"

"You would…you dare…I can't believe…you're infuriating," he finally stuttered out. "The most maddening person I've ever had the misfortune to meet which is saying something as I work with dragon tamers who get pissed on a nightly basis."

"That's actually quite funny," Hermione nodded. "Did you include yourself in that bundle of people who get pissed?"

Charlie scoffed, "I can't even have a decent conversation with you."

"You never even tried to act civilized towards me before. All you do is make snide remarks."

"How about a resolution to our little dilemma then," Charlie proposed. "Tomorrow, we spend as little time as possible together. Then at night, we sit as far away from each other at dinner. Then we won't have to talk to each other, won't have to look at each other, and sure as hell won't have to breathe the same air as each other."

"That's fine by me!"

"It's fine with me too! You and Ron can use the extra space at the table to put on a kissing show for the entire family to witness. That'll be our nightly entertainment!"

Hermione looked as if she was trying very hard not to whip out her wand and hex Charlie into oblivion. Her hands curled at her sides while her shoulders tensed considerably.

"You're vile, you know that, and cruel. It's no wonder that you're twenty-seven and still single!"

With that, she turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs, disappearing into the blackness. Charlie was left framed in the kitchen light. His stomach bubbled sickly for she had dealt him a low blow, one that rocked against his senses and made him wish he never met her.

She didn't know how Charlie felt, being unable to find a girl he could call his own, his life-long companion, someone he could love dutifully before staking out a family between them. She didn't know how much it bothered him to see Bill and Fleur immensely happy that they had found one another while Ginny and Harry were close behind. She didn't know how much it bothered Charlie that he had come to terms recently that maybe there wasn't anyone out there for him. Reality was a harsh undertaking, it dealing out blesses and curses like a hammer charmed under a Love potion.

He took hold of his wand and repaired the teacup before setting it back in the sink. He no longer wanted to brood in his own thoughts for his dislike of Hermione had rooted inside him. He took up into his room where he ripped off his stained shirt and threw it against his wardrobe. It fell to a ragged bundle on the floor.

After stripping down to his boxer shorts, his climbed atop his sheets, it being too warm to crawl under them, and laid back on his hands, it acting like a pillow to his head. He stretched out his legs as he thought about he and Hermione's confrontation.

Never before had he been so incensed with any witch, even those that dismissed his charms as they noticed he wasn't playing for keeps. No, Hermione had managed to add a pouch full of coals to his raging blaze whilst radiating sparks of her own.

The only plausible notion Charlie could come up with to avoid another quarrel was to keep away from her at all costs. Not that that would be too difficult really. He noticed that she spent a lot of her time at the Burrow. Tomorrow, then, he would take a trip to Diagon Alley and stay there the whole day. Perhaps he'd snag a witch and get in a good shag. He hadn't had one in a long time. His length twitched at the thought. There was the bird who worked at _Flourish and Blotts_. How he had wished to balls deep in her. So much so that he had had a wet dream several nights ago because of it, something he hadn't had since he was a teenager.

As he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, he wondered, _Why does it bother me to think of Ron and Hermione snogging?_

* * *

 **A/N** : Please leave a review with your thoughts!


	2. An Offer from Hogwarts

**The Sparrow Suite**

* * *

 **A/N** : Hello everyone! Here is Chapter 2 of my story. Much like Chapter 1, elements of this chapter are the same as they were when this story was initially uploaded yet I did add, delete, and change things here and there. Also, thanks for the review, favorites, and follows! I hope you enjoy this installment!

* * *

Chapter 2: An Offer from Hogwarts

 _It certainly is hot outside today_ , Charlie thought to himself, wiping away a bead of sweat with his wrist. _I'll definitely take a dip in the lake when I get back home_.

Charlie was making his way down Diagon Alley, the shops flanking his sides alive and bursting with business. It certainly was a hot day but busy as well. Witches and wizards, young and old, were about, conversing with one another and traveling from store to store with their many purchases weighing them down.

 _At least this morning is turning out better than yesterday_ , Charlie mentally conveyed. _At least_ she _isn't here to break my nose or spill hot tea down my front again_. Charlie smiled as he nodded at two pretty witches who were giving him an eye-full. _Wouldn't mind taking either of them to bed_.

But no, not yet, for he had a destination in mind: Flourish and Blotts. The young bird at the counter, the one who was the main attraction of his nocturnal emission some nights ago, was a true sight to behold and looked intelligent enough for Charlie to carve time out of his busy day to ask on a date. Also, his mum wanted a copy of a new cookbook titled _Hearty Meats and Rosy Sweets_ after seeing an advertisement for it in the _Daily Prophet_. ( _I just have to have it!_ she exclaimed.) Charlie happily obliged to make the trip for her, anything to get away from where Hermione would possibly be.

As the sun continued to scorch London that slept underneath it, Charlie thankfully turned into the bookstore, a single bell chiming on his entry. He first looked over at the front checkout counter and smiled as he set his sights on the witch.

 _Merlin, isn't she beautiful_ , he thought nearly drooling. Her long, brown hair stretched down to her waist while her full lips were ruby red. She had piercing green eyes that exemplified her full, voluptuous figure. He then shook his head slightly, thinking he would chat with her after he found his mum's recipe book.

He began to walk down a row of books as the front bell _dinged_ again. Charlie paid this no mind for he was scratching the left side of his head as he titled it sideways, squinting down at the spines of numerous books he passed, reading their titles soundlessly. He stepped around a middle-aged witch who was leaning against one shelf, a skinny book opened in her palms.

Charlie turned into the next row, repeating his actions from before. He grew slightly irritated that he was unable to locate what his mum wanted (for he was wasting precious flirting time).

Suddenly, the voice of the witch at the front carried over to him. It was followed by a giggle. However, what troubled Charlie was the accompanying voice of a man. Like a panther lurking amongst the shadows, Charlie stood on his tiptoes and peered between two shelves towards the front desk, agitated to see the bird he had planned to ask out philandering away with some random bloke…one who hadn't even made a purchase!

 _What's the point of coming into Flourish and Blotts_ _then_ , he asked himself crossly.

He had half a mind to march to the front of the store and settle this matter wizard-to-wizard, wands or fists he didn't care. He stopped when a familiar voice from behind him said, "Excuse me but could I reach around you? You're blocking a book I need."

He planted his shoes back on the ground and spun around. He let out an aggravated sigh to see that it was Hermione who addressed him. For her part, she made a point to roll her eyes making his annoyance spike precipitously.

"What are you doing here," they questioned the other at the same time. Both of their tones were accusatory.

"I'm picking up a cookbook for mum," Charlie answered first, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes, I can see that," Hermione began. "Snooping behind a bookshelf certainly constitutes picking up a book, doesn't it?"

"I wasn't snooping," he defended though the tips of his ears burned a nasty shade of red.

"Don't like that word? Okay, how about prying? That sounds a bit better, don't you think?"

He scoffed. "And why are you here? Taking refuge with these books as no one back home wanted to be bored by your presence?" When she didn't respond, he went on, "I mean, that's a good call on your part. At least you can boss them around without any back talk."

"For your information, I'm meeting Ginny to grab lunch! That's more I could say of you, sneaking around and dreaming of witches far out of your league!"

Charlie felt his face flush a deep crimson as he stared vehemently down at Hermione. She didn't seem fazed as she glared right back at him.

"You know, last night you called me vile and cruel. I think it's safe to say that those two words apply to you more than me," he snarled.

"What you said last night about Ron and I putting on a show for your family was out of line."

"And what you just said to me wasn't?"

She paused for a beat while Charlie continued to look down at her, waiting for a reply.

"I think it's best that we avoid each other from now on."

Charlie snorted, "That's why I came to Diagon Alley today. To keep away from you. Obviously you felt inclined to follow me here and harass me."

"I am not harassing you," she fumed.

"You are too," he traded back, glad to see that he had touched a nerve.

"I already told you that I'm meeting up with Ginny for lunch!"

"Could be a fluke for all I know."

"How dare you! You know, you're worse than Ron. At least he and I are able to act mature enough and apologize to one another after we have a disagreement!"

"I would buy that yet you two are so childlike that your concessions are empty-handed. I mean, minutes later, you guys are having another go at each other. Your apologies mean nothing."

Hermione waited for a moment before she turned around and stalked away from him, disappearing around a corner. For some unknown reason, this didn't satisfy him in the least for he tore off after her, temporarily forgetting about the bird at the front desk. He stepped outside, back into the heat, and scanned passerby.

"What, you can't handle the truth about your relationship with my little brother," he questioned after he spotted her. She was making her way towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Why are you following me," she accused. "I have nothing more to say to you." She turned around and faced him defensively.

"I think you owe me an apology and counting what happened yesterday, that brings it to three."

"What are you talking about?"

"Let me see: First you broke my nose," he started, holding up one finger, "second when you spilt tea down my front," holding up another finger, "and third for insulting me," finished with a final raised finger.

"Insulting you," she echoed in a confused manner.

"When you said the witch at the front counter was out of my league."

Hermione laughed. "That wasn't an insult! It was the truth!"

Charlie stared coldly at her, his eyes a steely blue.

"You know, Ron and Ginny talked a lot about you in letters they sent me in Romania. They went on and on about how great and how smart you were. And I'll give it to them: You are smart but I'm not sure where the great part came into play."

"The same can be said of you as well. Ginny told me especially that you and Bill are her favorite brothers. She liked the fact that you two actually listened to what she had to say and seemed to care. I agree with her on Bill but not on you."

"Listen-," Charlie initiated but Hermione cut across him.

"I don't know what I ever did or said to you but you've been nothing but rude to me since you came home. I brushed it off and tried not to care but recently, it seems as if you go out of your way to be extremely annoying."

"Well, I can't say that I'm very fond of you."

"And that's why you've been acting like a small child?"

They continued to gaze at one another, the sun continuing its London char.

Hermione commented, "I know you're twenty-seven but you sure don't act like it."

"I don't need you to antagonize me," he remarked. "I get enough of that from my mum. Also, hearing you and Ron bicker all damn day isn't helping either."

"We do not fight all day!"

"Maybe not but it sure seems like it. I can't even tell you how many headaches I've gotten over listening to the two of you. It's maddening! I'm not sure what you both fight so much about."

"For your information, Ron can sometimes speak before he thinks."

"So you're trying to pin your problems on him then and not taking any faults yourself? Is that it? Have you ever wondered that maybe you're the trouble? That Ron is trying his best to please you only that you're too blind to realize it? Relationships are all about compromise which is something you don't seem to understand."

Hermione fell silent at this as her eyes took away from Charlie and instead darted to his side. It was as if she was mulling over his words, wondering if perhaps there was an ounce of truth to them.

When she spoke, she was calm. "You've been in enough relationships to know about them?"

Charlie's face flashed scarlet, his mind working over the fact that he had only been involved in two serious relationships before while the rest were casual flings. He was, of course, trying to settle down, to find that one girl that meant a lot to him yet obstructions always fell in the way whenever he felt like he got near to her.

"You haven't, have you," Hermione gathered. When he didn't respond, she scoffed and said, "Well that's rich, isn't it? Trying to give me relationship advice when you haven't been in enough yourself?"

He glared down at her and said, "No, I've found you and Ron to be quite simplistic. You're the master and Ron's the dog."

"How dare-,"

"You're bossy, probably the most of anyone I ever met, and trust me, that's not a compliment. I also get this sense that you're close-minded. Like I said before, I know you're intelligent but I'd wager that you're only book-smart and refute anything without solid evidence to back it up. How am I doing so far?"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort when a voice suddenly called her name. She and Charlie both looked around and saw Ginny making her way towards them. Upon seeing Charlie, her brows pulled together as a look of confusion swam over her face.

"Charlie? What're you doing here?"

"Oh, I, um," he stammered, casting a quick look in Hermione's direction. She made a point of not looking at him. "I'm just picking up that new cookbook for mum. You remember the one she saw in the _Prophet_?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

"You haven't got it yet?" When he shook his head, she said, "You've been gone for over an hour now."

"Have I? Didn't think it's been that long."

Ginny looked from him to Hermione and back again.

"You haven't been bothering Hermione, have you?"

Charlie's mouth fell open while Hermione stated softly, "Ginny," and shook her head.

"Well after yesterday, can you blame me for asking," she threw her hands in the air.

"Hang on," Charlie called out. "Are you talking about when Hermione attacked me?"

"Don't be so sour," Ginny reprimanded. "I'm sure Hermione didn't mean to break your nose."

"And what about spilling tea down my front?"

"I'm sure that was an accident too," she waved away.

"No it wasn't."

"Yes it was," Ginny fired right back. "Anyway, Hermione and I due for lunch." She turned to her. "Are you ready to go?"

"More than you know," she answered. "Come on."

The two turned their backs on Charlie as they made their way away from him. He grew irritated as he watched them leave, namely Hermione. What had once been a fine morning had abruptly turned into a farce, courtesy of her. He became confused, however, when his stomach ached uncomfortably. He frowned but he pushed his way back into Flourish and Blotts.

He rolled his eyes when he saw that the pretty bird was still chatting away with the man that had made no purchases. He saw her wind a strand of her hair around one of her fingers, her smile growing even larger.

Charlie then restarted his search for his mum's book, taking to row after row, his eyes scanning each spine quickly as he wanted nothing more than to find what he needed and to get the hell out of the store. He started to feel claustrophobic.

He entered the last row, thinking that it was highly plausible Flourish and Blotts didn't carry the recipe book his mum wanted. When his gaze fell towards the bottom row, he finally spotted it. Letting out a long breath, he tucked down and retrieved it. After looking at its cover, he rifled through its pages, making sure this was the correct volume lest he have to come back and see his bird sucking face with the man that made no purchases.

As he found his way to the front counter, he realized he was too late: In a passionate snog, it was as if Charlie didn't exist. He felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest as he stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. Their tongues danced against the other while they both hummed with pleasure. How he wanted nothing more than to shove the man aside and take the girl with his own lips to show her how it felt like to be kissed by a real man.

However, he resulted in holding himself back as he instead loudly cleared his throat. They sprang apart, each having the decency to blush. Charlie walked up and slammed the book on the counter and took out the necessary monies. After paying, the witch said, "Thank you for shopping at Flourish and Blotts! Please come again soon!"

"Not bloody likely but you'll probably come soon," he grumbled under his breath. He took hold of the bag and stalked out of the store. The chiming bell altered his exit as he stepped back outside. He looked over his shoulder through the front window of the bookstore only to see that the make out session had resumed.

 _He's going to be a lucky bloke tonight_ , Charlie thought. _She's probably good under the sheets_.

He then thought about doubling back down the lane to pick up the two girls he had seen earlier. He wagered they wouldn't mind skinny dipping out by the lake. He remembered one of them had some fine-looking buttocks just begging to be squeezed. He had the hands for that. Yet, something held him back.

Shaking his head at his own misfortunes, Charlie disapparated out of Diagon Alley, leaving it behind.

* * *

Charlie arrived back in the kitchen of the Burrow. He called out, "Hey, mum."

She turned from the stove where smoke was billowing in a tall column and said, "Charlie, dear, did you pick up the book?"

In answer, he held up the bag that was emblazoned with the Flourish and Blott's logo.

"Thank you," she smiled. "And before I forget, a letter came in for you. It's on the table," she nodded over to two envelopes that were stationed next to each other.

"Two came in," he asked.

"Yes, the other is for Hermione," she answered without looking at him. His face twisted in vexation at the mere mention of her name.

He sat down at the table and picked up the other addressed to him. Sighing, he opened it and read:

 _To Mr. Charles Weasley,_

 _As you are well aware, a transfer is being made for a new dragon reserve to be constructed in Northumberland. However, I regret to inform you that this relocation has been met with great legislative resistance from the wizarding community in Great Britain. Therefore, the new dragon encampment will not be ready for the better part of the coming year with the expected opening date currently set for late June of 2000._

 _Since you have requested additional time off due to family affairs, we are granting you an extended absence from your duty as dragon handler for twelve months as the Romanian reserve has more than enough workers to oversee its current operations. You, of course, will be paid for this duration as your efforts as a hard and committed young man working with these dragons have not gone unnoticed by your reserve director, Welmer Fisicient._

 _Conversely, I understand that as a young gentleman, taking a year off from working is not ideal. Thus, I have referred you to another position based in Great Britain which I believe will be more than suitable for you until it is time for you to return to your post on the new dragon reserve. Details of this arrangement will follow shortly._

 _If you have any questions or concerns, please contact me here at the Ministry of Magic directly or if you wish to know more about the continuing operations of the dragon transfer, Director Fisicient will be more than happy to accommodate your needs._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Royston Tellwater  
_ _Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures  
_ _Ministry of Magic_

Charlie stared down at the letter he held in his hands with great curiosity. He remembered how there was some talk on the reserve back in Romania that the dragon relocation was not going to be easy. However, he didn't think it would be so difficult that the opening in Northumberland would be pushed back nearly a year. Twelve months was a long period of unemployment and while he enjoyed being off these past couple of weeks, he was thoroughly looking forward in getting back into his vocation.

On the other hand, Mr. Tellwater did offer a reprieve for Charlie's consideration though he didn't go into detail over what it was. He wondered what it could be and was running over the possibilities in his head before his mother's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"What was the letter about, Charlie?"

He looked up as he had forgotten his mum's presence. He replied, "Oh, um, the dragon transfer is taking longer than expected. I've been granted paid leave until it opens next June."

"Oh, how wonderful! It'll be terrific to have you around! I'm sure you remember my thoughts on you going all the way to Romania to work! We never really got to see you all that often. Everyone here missed you."

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled, his eyes peeling back towards the letter. "But Mr. Tellwater says there's an opportunity for employment to hold me over until next year."

"What kind of work is it," Mrs. Weasley questioned, turning around to face her son. The pots behind her emitted a series of _hisses_ and _whooshes_.

"Dunno," he said back. "But I should be getting another letter soon with an explanation."

"Well, hopefully it has nothing to do with dragons," his mum returned rather sternly. "I think it's far too hazardous."

"Mum, please," Charlie nearly groaned. "It's not half as dangerous as you make it out to be. Don't you remember when you and dad came by some time ago?"

"What I remember," she began in a huff, "is that one of those creatures escaped its pen and went on a rampage when we came for a visit. That little _not half as dangerous_ scenario gave me and your father a great fright!"

"It wasn't that bad," Charlie defended quickly. "Nothing was damaged and more importantly no one was hurt."

"No but there's always the potential for that to happen and I imagine there is that sort of potential everyday you work there."

"We're experts, mum. All of us on the reserve. We know what we're doing."

"I know that," she sighed, turning back to her cooking. "But dragons are so unpredictable, dear. I'm sure they view you more as a light snack than as trainers."

"Some do, some don't," Charlie shrugged haphazardly, as if being part of a dragon's diet didn't bother him. And quite frankly, it didn't. He was fond of the creatures more so than half of the handlers he worked with. He liked the touch of their scales underneath his fingertips, it feeling like smooth, running ice water. He was captivated by the spreading of their wings to its full extent. Their aggressive and territorial nature was a true sight to behold as well – the barring of their jaws, a bout of fire, and a mighty _roar_ thrilled Charlie beyond logical belief.

"Yes, well, think of yourself as if you were in my shoes," his mum went on. "I'm positive that you wouldn't want your own kids working in that type of condition."

Charlie nearly choked on his mother's words as he managed to get out, "I don't have any kids."

"Not yet you don't but I'm sure you will one day," she responded matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, one day next to never," he mumbled lowly.

"What was that?" He looked up to see his mum staring at him over her shoulder.

"What? Oh, it was nothing. I didn't say anything."

She arched an eyebrow at him though let him loose. Her gaze fell upon the kitchen window as she stopped and said, "I think this might be for you, Charlie."

He followed her trajectory and saw a handsome brown owl flying towards the Burrow with what looked like an envelope clutched in its talons. He waved his wand and opened the window as the bird swooned inside, deposited the letter in front of him, and took flight, not even bothering to take a rest.

Just as Charlie made to open this new arrival, the kitchen opened to bouts of laughter as Hermione and Ginny walked in, their faces coated with wide smiles and rosy cheeks.

"Ah, there you girls are," Mrs. Weasley greeted with a grin of her own.

"Hey, mum," Ginny waved.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said.

"Oh, a letter came in for you dear," she told Hermione.

"For me?"

"Yes, it's just on the table there."

Hermione and Ginny traded interested looks as the former walked over and grabbed the envelope marked in her name.

Charlie watched her carefully, wondering if she was going to make a snarky remark directed at him. However, she seemed to pretend that he didn't even exist. Her eyes didn't flicker in his direction as she didn't even notice him staring. She and Ginny retreated into the living area.

Charlie shook his head from side to side, bothered and puzzled though he didn't understand why. While he remembered Hermione telling him back in Diagon Alley that they were better off avoiding each other, that didn't mean they were going to ignore the other's presence completely. Did it?

 _Hang on a second_ , he mentally thought. _Why should I care that Hermione is paying me no attention? Shouldn't that instead call for a celebration?_

Try as he did to convince himself that Hermione's new tactic against him was better for the both of them, he couldn't quite bring himself to accept her new standard. It put him on edge.

Suddenly, Hermione and Ginny's voices seeped in from the living area back into the kitchen making Charlie grit his teeth. When Hermione's voice overtook that of his sister's, he thought that he wanted nothing more than to take himself away.

Growling in frustration at himself and Hermione, he stood up from the kitchen table and announced, "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back soon." He held his letter in his hand.

Mrs. Weasley looked over at him in a concerned manner and asked, "Do you feel alright, dear?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You look a bit peaky is all."

"I'm fine. I just need a bit of fresh air."

She nodded at him and said, "I'll have sandwiches ready for you when you get back."

Charlie stepped outside, basking in the sun's warmth, before he started to make his way over to the lake situated some ways behind the Burrow. It was a place he liked to go and cool off, collect his thoughts, or undertake both activities as his family didn't care much for the lagoon. Rightly, that meant he had the entire area under his monopoly.

As he proceeded to make his way over to it, his mind moseyed back over to Hermione. The most frustrating part about her was that he couldn't get her out of his mind no matter how much he wanted to. His thoughts of her were not pleasant as he truly believed that she had made his life worse off by being in it. How much he would give to kick her out – there wasn't enough money in the world. She was beyond insufferable and he wondered how Ron put up with her and her attitude on a daily basis. While he didn't think much of his younger brother, he definitely possessed more patience than Charlie initially assumed of him. Yes, Ron could be a right prat and almost always talked before he thought of the consequences yet he was nowhere near as bad as Hermione. A witch who broke his nose, made him spill hot tea down his front, and threw out insults as if they were medicine.

However, Charlie did take comfort in the fact that Hermione was as bothered by him as he was of her. If she wasn't, why else would she have disregarded his presence back in the kitchen? Ginny, at least, looked in his direction, an act Hermione failed to do. And why would Hermione go into the living area to read her letter? Why not open it right then and there? Yes, he knew for a fact that he was on her mind though just like he thought of her, he guaranteed he was in the negative with her, not that he minded in the slightest.

A neighborhood of clouds passed over the face of the sun. Shadows shaded Charlie temporarily. He breathed in a gorge of fresh air as the lake then came into view. It was birthed around a small cluster of trees while green valleys stretched beyond it. Here, the grass came high, constructing its own city, though Charlie liked the covertness it provided him with.

He wandered around the edge of the water, taking refuge atop a small family of rocks. He took a seat on one of them, ripped open the envelope and read:

 _Dear Mr. Weasley,_

 _I do hope that this letter finds you well. I have been informed by Mr. Royston Tellwater that a new dragon reserve soon to be located in Northumberland has been delayed through governmental means and that while you will be paid until the new encampment opens, you will be without employment over the course of much of the next year. However, Mr. Tellwater, a former student of mine, did refer you for a recently-opened post that is currently vacated at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Care of Magical Creatures position._

 _Our former professor, Rubeus Hagrid, has decided to take time off to travel with his brother, Grawp, mentioning that he hadn't spent much quality time with him as he would have liked. I do believe, along with Mr. Tellwater, that you would be an honorable addition to the teaching staff here at Hogwarts._

 _Your teaching post will be set for two terms, with classes beginning on the first of September. Please enclose your reply within the coming day so that I can make the necessary arrangements for you to have a complete and smooth transition into becoming a new professor at the school._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall,  
_ _Headmistress_

When he finished reading the letter, he was shocked. He reread it again just to make sure that he understood what it contained. Upon his conclusion the second time around, Charlie felt a frown appear over his features. He wondered why Mr. Tellwater believed he would be a good fit to be a professor. While he did know a fair amount about various magical creatures, he didn't have any teaching experience.

 _Although, I did get an O.W.L. and a N.E.W.T. in Care of Magical Creatures_ , he told himself. _But does that qualify me to be a professor? How much could I actually teach kids?_

A light wind blew over him, making the branches of nearby trees creak. Several leaves departed from its roots and were gone with the wind. He folded the letter back up and stared out at the smooth surface of the lake.

He continued to think over whether or not he should accept the teaching post. On one hand, he did like the fact that he would be working (instead of spending his time at the Burrow with his mum barraging him about settling down and sprouting a family of his own) and the idea of living back inside Hogwarts castle was incredibly tempting. During his own time there, he considered it a second home though that was before he had found the Romanian Dragon Reserve. Yet, he didn't know if he would be up to the task of being a professor. Certainly it was less demanding than that of handling dragons though he liked the nature of his workings with the beasts.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He then stood up and ripped off his t-shirt. This was followed by his jeans, shoes, and socks before he pulled down his boxer shorts. They pooled his ankles. Charlie then ran forward and dived into the lake. He was surprised by its relative coolness.

He swam around, the sun continuing its onslaught of heat via its rays, while the notion of returning to Hogwarts started to become more of a reality than a fantasy. His mind skimmed over what lessons he would plan, seeing the look of awe pass over the faces of his students when he introduced them to magical creatures they had never properly seen before. He even started the basis of what type of practical examinations he should give them.

Charlie lapped the lake, moving in even strokes, as another wind came to, it rippling the water's surface.

 _Maybe I can actually do this_ , he thought to himself. _It beats hanging around the Burrow for the next twelve months and I'm positive there are enough witches in Hogsmeade for me to spend several cold nights with_.

A smile then worked its way over his face as he now had something to look forward to. After Harry and Ginny's wedding, he initially didn't have any plans. His mum probably would have suggested he take a part-time job in Diagon Alley. He wagered it wouldn't have been too bad considering he'd be working relatively close to the pretty bird from Flourish and Blotts but that was before the early-morning kiss fest she shared with the man who made no purchases. Also, he hated the idea of being holed inside for hours upon end. That was part of the appeal of working with dragons in Romania: He was outside a good part of the day if not the entire time the sun was up. He loved the outdoors and that was something the Care of Magical Creatures position offered.

Charlie ducked under the water letting it blanket him as he had his answer of what he was going to do.

* * *

After his afternoon swim, he went back to the Burrow and grabbed a large plate of sandwiches his mum had promised him. He then tucked up to his room where he penned a quick letter of reply back to McGonagall.

When he finished, he went up to Ron's room and asked to borrow Pigwidgeon. Ron cursed when Charlie entered, accusing him of costing him his game of Exploding Snap against Harry.

After sending the letter, Charlie reentered his own room where he messily searched his drawers for a book that was sure to help him with his preparations. He finally found it: _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. He stared reading.

* * *

Over the next several days, Charlie spent all of his time alone, pouring over all of the magical creatures listed in the book. He took small notes that were scattered over several pieces of parchment. Sometimes he read by the lake, being at peace with nature around him. Other times, he took away to the Weasley orchard though he was disturbed by Ron's constant nagging of a Quidditch scrimmage.

He received a letter back from McGonagall fairly quickly. She told him that she was pleased with his acceptance and reminded him to arrive at Hogwarts on the thirty-first of August for him to get accommodated with his living chambers inside the castle.

Dinner the following night was a rather happy affair as Charlie had taken a spot far, far away from Hermione at the kitchen table. In fact, he had done so the past couple of nights. However, he hadn't spared much thought for the witch ever since being offered the Care of Magical Creatures position. When she did happen to seep into his brainwaves, he shook his head from side to side as if the action would shake her out of his mind. More often than not, it worked.

"Charlie," Mrs. Weasley said, "what have you been spending your time doing these days? Your mind always seems to be somewhere else." She then paused. "Did you meet someone?"

Charlie mentally rolled his eyes at the hopefulness of his mother's tone. He replied, "No, it's something else."

"What is it, dear?"

Before he could answer, he heard Hermione's laugh from down the table making him take a quick peek over at her. He noticed that Ginny was now giggling. It irritated him.

"Is it something to do with the letters you received," his mum continued on.

"Well, yeah, it does," he nodded.

His parents waited with patient ears, looking at him expectantly. He inwardly sighed, knowing he would have to tell them sooner or later.

"I've been offered a job at Hogwarts for the upcoming term. It's for the Care of Magical Creatures position. McGonagall said that Hagrid wanted to spend some time with his brother."

"What did you say," Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Hagrid has a brother," Mr. Weasley questioned with wide eyes.

"Um, yeah, I said yes," he answered.

"Oh, that's splendid! Charlie, you'll be working alongside Hermione then!"

Charlie, who had the unfortunate timing of taking a sip of his Pumpkin juice, started choking.

"What did you-," he stopped to hack loudly into his fist. "What did you s-s-," he paused again to cough. "What did you say," he eked out, feeling his eyes water as he cleared his throat.

His mum, who apparently had little concern that her son nearly choked to death, answered happily, "Hermione also received a letter from Headmistress McGonagall. She was offered a teaching role at Hogwarts too. Isn't that right, dear?"

Hermione, whose attention had been drawn into the conversation by Charlie's fit, nodded her head in answer. Mrs. Weasley beamed. Charlie, meanwhile, glowered down at his plate of food.

Too stunned to speak, he resumed his meal in silence, mentally thinking to himself, _Maybe I made the wrong decision to return to Hogwarts_.

* * *

 **A/N** : Did you like the chapter? Let me know your thoughts with a review!


	3. A Wedding for Two

**The Sparrow Suite**

* * *

 **A/N** : Hello everyone! This is the latest installment of my Charlie/Hermione romance story. I just want to mention that their relationship is more of a slow-burn though it won't be too slow. Also, thanks for the views, reviews, favorites, and follows!

* * *

Chapter 3: A Wedding for Two

"So you're going to be a professor, huh," Bill commented, taking a large swig of Firewhisky.

Charlie sighed. "That's the fourth time you said that. What are you going on about that for?" He then took his own sip of the alcoholic beverage though his was rather small in comparison to that of his brother.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I just never pinned you as the teaching type."

"Didn't see myself as that either," Charlie agreed. "But at least it's something to do to pass the time until the new reserve opens."

"True but what about Hermione? Isn't she going to be right there at Hogwarts with you?"

Charlie grimaced as he thought his over. Though the initial shock had worn out its welcome over the past week it had since been replaced with resentment.

"The only thing I can do about that is to avoid her at all costs during term," Charlie answered, downing another mouthful. "Although, I'm sure you'd suggest I didn't."

Bill shot him a puzzled look and asked, "And what does that mean?"

"C'mon! You've got this dream of sorts about me and Hermione becoming some sort of item. Your castle in the sky, if you will. Why you're so concerned baffles me but whatever."

"I don't fancy seeing you guys together. Though I'm positive it's bound to happen sooner or later."

"Then what was that talk about last week, you thinking I have some sort of soft spot for her?"

"You do," he shrugged. "I know it even if you don't. But that doesn't mean you and her will begin a relationship tomorrow. Maybe the day after…," he trailed off.

Charlie snorted. "You know what Bill? You make absolutely no sense sometimes."

He smirked, "Believe what you want but you'll understand in due time. That's no guarantee of course but it's possible."

"Yeah, I'll understand when I go mental," Charlie muttered under his breath.

"I heard that," Bill told him. Charlie snickered.

The two brothers continued to drink, though not enough to get drunk, as they enjoyed the other's company on the eve of their sister's wedding. They had their backs against a lone tree, the rough bark imprinting their shirts. An easy wind made the branches overhead creak like an ancient floorboard as Charlie spotted a village of gnomes sneaking back into the garden. He supposed they thought the night would cover their invasion.

"You know what she's teaching?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," he drank.

"Really," Bill confirmed as he let out a low whistle.

"Yeah. Ginny said that McGonagall offered the job to Harry first but he turned it down in favor of Auror training."

"Ginny said this? Not Hermione?"

Charlie laughed, "Mate, what makes you think I would even want to know in the first place? I have zero interest in her and definitely no bloody soft spot or whatever rubbish you go on and on about. Besides, Ginny announced it at dinner."

"A bit defensive, are we," Bill remarked. Charlie noticed his mouth had curled into a rather evil-looking smile.

"I give up," Charlie sighed. "There's no winning with you, is there? No matter how many times I tell you that I could care less about Hermione, you just stuff it back at me."

"It's because you have feelings for her. Not romantic ones," he added with haste for he saw that Charlie had opened his mouth in protest. "But some sort of feelings nonetheless."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Well I told you already that you like to pick on each other."

"She starts it," Charlie countered, growing agitated.

"And you entertain it," Bill swiftly put in. "Another thing is that you always bring her up in conversation. At least when you're talking to me, that is."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do. Do you remember the first thing you said to me when I came by?"

Charlie thought this over, looking away from his older brother in thought. He recalled Bill and Fleur coming over for dinner (Charlie again sat as far away as he could from Hermione – she didn't seem to mind this which irked him for some unknown reason), as he immediately struck up a discussion with Bill.

"I told you about the teaching offer," he said slowly as if this was all coming back to him in a daze.

"And," Bill encouraged.

Charlie closed his eyes in frustration as he then remembered what he said afterward.

"And then I told you about Hermione also getting an offer."

"Exactly," Bill exclaimed victoriously, pointing his finger as if to make a point. "And you've been doing that ever since she broke your nose."

"Well what d'you expect? She's on my mind a lot." Bill chuckled as Charlie rectified, "Not like that! I meant that she's just so bloody annoying. She always either fighting with Ron or giggling with Ginny it's just hard for me not to think about her."

"Young love," Bill issued.

"Piss off, you great big prat," Charlie responded savagely. He took another nip of his Firewhisky.

The two stumbled into silence as Charlie gazed up at the Burrow. His eyes skipped from window to window until he found Hermione. She shouldered a high pane, a book cradled against her knees. He rolled his eyes as if her simple act of reading put him over the edge in what he was able to tolerate with her.

"I still can't believe Ginny's getting married," Bill commented. "She grew up too fast."

"She did," Charlie nodded, still staring up at Hermione. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear as she turned a page of her thick tome.

"Mum, of course, will be mental all day tomorrow. She's got to make sure everything goes as planned."

Charlie scoffed, "Not that that ever happens with us, does it?"

"No, not at all," Bill agreed.

Another round of quiet fell over the brothers as Charlie was fixated on Hermione. She yawned behind her hand before she turned another page of her book. Charlie inattentively licked his lips as he watched her, vaguely wondering why he was unable to look away.

"Enjoying the view there, are you," came Bill.

"What," Charlie asked, his gaze still glued on Hermione.

"You're completely hopeless. Charlie, I don't think you've ever been blinder in your entire life!"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," he blinked rapidly. "There was something on the topmost chimney. I was trying to figure out what it was."

"And you expect me to believe that?" When Charlie said nothing, he added, "What do you take me for?"

"A drugged, match-making, fantasy-believing banshee that hopes for the worst for his younger brother," Charlie quipped.

Bill laughed. "I look out for you." He paused then said, "I look out for everyone." He took a drink. "You ever think that you and I kind of missed watching the others grow up?"

Charlie looked over at him and said, "You're still on about Ginny, are you?"

"When you think about it, come tomorrow she technically won't be a Weasley anymore. I don't know, maybe it comes with the territory that I'm the oldest and she's the youngest but I feel like I blinked once and now, here she is about to marry. I mean, the whole thing's a big deal. It's all about commitment between you and your partner. That's not something to play around with. And whenever I see Harry and Ginny together it's all there. They're serious about it and about each other. Sometimes when I come by, I'm looking for the kid that isn't here anymore."

"Look at you, getting all doe-eyed! Tell you what, tomorrow you and mum can share a handkerchief to cry into."

"Go stuff yourself," he said bitterly.

Charlie grinned. "Hey, don't dish out what you can't eat. You're always picking on me and Hermione. Now, the tables have turned."

"And there you go again! Bringing her up and all! There's no stopping you!"

Charlie inwardly cursed himself, thinking he needed a filter in order to stop going on about Hermione.

"Even though you've supposedly been avoiding her all week, what's going to happen when you get to Hogwarts?"

"I'll still ignore her and I'm sure she'll ignore me in return. It's not like there's any rule stating that I have to talk to her."

"What about at meal times?"

"We'll sit on opposites ends of the staff table."

"And what about in the evenings?"

Charlie quirked up a brow and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Professors have their own living quarters in the castle," he explained. "Didn't you know that?"

"No. How do you know?"

"I guess you learn things as Head Boy."

"I never was Head Boy."

Bill looked over at him, surprised. "You weren't?"

"I see age is catching up to you."

Bill ignored this as he said, "Well, Head Boy or not, now you know."

"I always thought the professors lived out of their offices," Charlie posed.

"Some of them do but others prefer not to. Something along the lines of separating work and leisure."

"And do you know where these living quarters are? Like are they all in one place?"

"That I'm not completely sure of as I've never actually seen 'em. But if I had to take a guess, I'd assume it's some sort of annexation of the staffroom or something like that."

Charlie considered this as he formed, "So what you're saying is that me and Hermione will be neighbors?" A look of horror dawned over him.

Bill gave him a cheerful smile. "Might as well buddy-up with her now! You wouldn't want to be pissing with your neighbor all term, would you?"

Charlie groaned as he knocked his head back against the tree. He disregarded the pain as he emptied his bottle of Firewhisky. His eyes roamed up to where Hermione sat before only for him to find that the curtains had been drawn.

* * *

After lunch the following day, Charlie marched up the staircase to his room, barely escaping his mum's wild tirade over the decreasing number of hours it was before the wedding. He and his dad had just finished erecting a large, white marquee where the ceremony and following reception will take place.

Just as he was about to pass the first landing, Ginny's room door opened as Hermione stepped out of it. She closed the door on her exit. Charlie stopped and watched her to see what she would do. She marched towards him without any acknowledgement of his presence and started to make her way down the stairs. She bypassed him completely.

"You're infuriating, you know that," he called to her back.

She stopped midway down the stairs and visibly tensed before she turned around to look at him. "Talking to me after nearly a week of silence, are you? Too bad, I was quite enjoying it."

He scoffed. "It's only to tell you that I sincerely regret accepting the teaching post seeing how you're going to be at Hogwarts too."

"And who says we have to talk to each other? Because as far as I'm concerned _Charles_ , silence is best between us."

"Okay," he started, laughing once as he walked down the steps towards her, "you don't have any right to call me Charles."

"Would immature adolescent work better for you?"

Charlie paused as he felt his temper mounting.

"You know, it's scary to think that in a little over a month, you'll actually be teaching children."

"And what's that supposed to mean," she bit back, her hands on her hips.

"It means that you have a really poor attitude for an adult," he answered.

"Really, is that how you're going to play? Okay, let's see then: How did you react when you broke your nose? And don't you even think about blaming me for it! If I remember correctly, you let loose a number of swear words I'm sure parents would love for their children to hear!"

"Yes, well I'm positive no one will shove open a door in my face liking a raving lunatic," he challenged, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Accidents happen," she shrugged. She then added, "I never meant to hurt you."

"I sure didn't hear an apology."

"I told you last week that I won't say sorry when you were clearly in the wrong."

"I was in the wrong," he repeated incredulously, feeling his eyes bulge. "Do you have any logic in that thick head of yours?!"

"This is ridiculous! Did you want something from me because if you hadn't noticed, I'm a bit busy?"

"With what? Conniving with yourself on how to make my life more miserable than it already is with you in it?"

Hermione's mouth opened in shock. He sensed success at the outraged expression on her face. She stated quietly with a renewed fervor, "You are a horrible human being. I would honestly question the sanity of any person who thinks you're anything better than a right tosser."

She then turned and continued her trek down the stairs. Charlie watched her retreating back for a moment before he growled and followed her. His temper was now near boiling levels as he felt highly offended by her name-calling.

"Funny how you accuse me of foul language as I'm sure parents would be excited for their children to learn words from your vernacular," he seethed as they both entered the kitchen.

The duo wore matching murderous expressions.

"What are you, a lost puppy following me around your own home?"

"No but you crossed the line back there, _professor_ , by calling me something I'm not," he raged.

"Well the truth hurts, doesn't it? Just add it to my scorecard of everything I've done to offend you in the past month! I'm sure you'll be able to write an entire novel by Christmas!"

"You know I'm never like this with any other girl, right?"

"I suppose that I should feel special then? Can you tell me why I don't?"

"DO YOU HAVE A RESPONSE FOR EVERYTHING I SAY?! CAN'T YOU JUST SHUT UP FOR ONCE?!"

Charlie didn't exactly know what suddenly came over him but he just exploded. Whatever he dished out Hermione threw right back at him, and with a solid force too. It was like she couldn't let him have the last word. He figured it was impossible for her to do so. Never before had anyone, whether it being past, one-night flings, his co-workers, or even his siblings been as exasperating as Hermione was to him. He felt that his mind was slowly yet surely becoming unhinged whenever he talked to her. Well, fought with her.

For her part, Hermione was staring up at him with a look that made him regret his detonation. She looked like an injured prey staring up at her predator as if she knew the end was nigh.

He gulped, feeling his anger slowly ebb away in waves that rolled off his body. The repercussions of his sudden outburst gossiped under his viewpoint.

"Hermione, I-,"

"Please, just leave me alone," she muttered before she fled from the kitchen, withdrawing back up the stairs. Charlie's blue eyes stalked her footsteps. He then realized she hadn't collected whatever she came down for and he was to blame for it.

Charlie was ashamed of himself. Never had he yelled at anybody like he just did. And to think that he started the tit-for-tat war with her in the first place. Deciding he needed a lungful of air, he went outside in a huff, slamming open the front door in what was a surprisingly good imitation of Hermione. He stomped over to the tree he and Bill had occupied the previous night and punched it hard. He heard several sickening _cracks_ that tag-teamed with a nasty throb that raced up his shoulder. He ignored this and turned around, leaning against the tree.

While the anger was nearly gone, his adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. He closed his eyes and focused on taking deep, calming breaths trying to tranquilize his wavering mind and high-octane body.

A cool wind brushed his face while two birds sang directly above him. The sun's warmth blanketed him as he felt his breathing even out. His brain replayed the image of Hermione and he greatly constricted at it. No, he didn't have any feelings for her yet he wished he could do-over the past several minutes of his life. He surely would have let her walk down the stairs to go about her business while he would've continued up to his room. Now, they were in a state of red against each other.

He screwed up, he knew that. Yet his mind ran on empty when he equated on how to rectify things with her. It was like his rampage crossed a line that was drawn between them though neither one dared to venture beyond it. Before, it had been harmless teasing here and there with certain moments approaching the line yet never quite reaching it. Charlie had changed all of that in a matter of seconds.

 _I'll send a letter to McGonagall tomorrow and tell her that I'm withdrawing from the position at Hogwarts_ , he thought to himself. _Something came up or I got another offer. Yeah, that should work. Then, I really should go out and look for something. Wasn't there an opening for a short-order cook at the Leaky Cauldron? I have to check on that but I'll take anything that keeps me away from her._

"Charlie," a recognizable voice abruptly called out, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He opened his eyes and saw Bill walking towards him, donning fancy dress robes. He saw Fleur making her way towards the Burrow out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey," he managed in greeting.

"Oh, what did you do now?" He eyed the hand Charlie was nursing against his chest.

"Hermione," was his one-word response.

Usually, Bill would have added a joke about the pair along with Charlie's hidden, unearthed devotion to her yet his brother's tone and the state he looked to be in was more than enough for Bill to show some concern.

"Your wrist looks broken," Bill commented as he knelt down next to Charlie.

"And a fair share of my knuckles too, no doubt."

"Here, let me fix it for you. Hold out your arm."

Charlie did as he was told, seeing that his body components in question had swelled past their normal size. A cantaloupe looked like it had lodged its way in his wrist.

Bill took out his wand and waved it in a complicated manner. Charlie gritted his teeth as a burning sensation took over him. It closely resembled that of dragon smolders he received many times back in Romania.

"There, that should do it," he said after a moment. "Your wrist will be sore for another several hours though."

Charlie shrugged. "I guess I deserve it."

Bill let out a sigh and asked, "What happened?"

Charlie shook his head from side to side and replied, "I lost it. I totally lost it."

"How do you mean?"

"I yelled at her. I mean, really screamed right in her face."

"Why?"

"She kept up her snarky commentary and wouldn't stop. Everything I said to her she would say right back to me. I just couldn't hold it in any longer and I blew up."

"How'd she take it?"

"I don't even want to think about it to be honest with you. Let's just say that I regret it, is all."

Bill placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "No one's perfect. Don't beat yourself up over this."

"But you didn't see the look on her face. It was terrible and awful rolled into one."

"You know what you have to then, don't you?"

Charlie looked over at his brother questioningly.

"You need to apologize. Suck up your pride and let her know that you didn't mean what you said."

"But that's just it: I did mean it. I just wish I was more level-headed about it."

"Be that as it may, you still have to tell her you're sorry. And who knows? Maybe this will be a turning point in your relationship."

"Don't start," Charlie warned. "Even if she does accept my apology, there still won't be any sort of relationship between us. I still don't like her."

Charlie didn't see Bill roll his eyes.

"Well whatever's going to happen, get up! You need to get ready for the wedding."

The Weasley boys stood to their feet and entered back into the Burrow. On the front porch, Charlie hoped against all hope that he wouldn't run into Hermione. He breathed out a sigh of relief when the coast in the kitchen was clear as his mum, who had already changed, was speaking rapidly with Fleur about last-minute flower arrangements. ( _That was supposed to be done already!_ the Weasley matriarch screamed.) Neither one noticed Charlie pass by them though Bill wasn't so fortunate. The two turned on him in a handicapped match and began to tell him off as if it was his fault the flowers hadn't been placed in order.

Charlie ventured quickly up the stairs and hurried past the first landing. Ginny's door was closed. He then made his way into his room where he shut the door behind him and let out a long breath. He stared to get changed, putting on a white undershirt and black dress robes. He pulled on his socks and shoes before conjuring a mirror to look at himself. He ran a comb through his short, fiery red hair. And while his hand was still burning, it was milder than before. Quite frankly, he felt as though he deserved to endure the pain throughout the night.

Sighing to himself, he exited his room and made his way back to the stairs. He went outside and saw a mess of clouds obscuring the sun. He relished the shade. He approached Bill, who stood by the entrance of the pergola. Inside, Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were decorating as they saw fit.

"Mum says the guest list isn't too long. Harry and Ginny wanted a small wedding," Bill told him.

"What about seating arrangements?"

"Not that I know of," he shook his head.

"Good thing, too. That was a nasty bit of work you put us through with that. Half the family complained about where they were placed."

"Hey, that seating chart was Fleur's mum's idea, not mine." Charlie held his hands in surrender as Bill asked, "How's your wrist, by the way?"

"Been better but I'll live."

They nodded at each other before Charlie entered the marquee and saw that red, purple, and white flowers were molded over its supporting poles while a light, golden carpet separated several rows of fine, white chairs on either side of it. A family of butterflies was roaming near a small platform, it being under soft, white drapes. Charlie thought the set-up was elegant yet kept simple enough. He knew Ginny would never want a lavish wedding.

Guests started to arrive, _popping_ into existence as Charlie saw that many of them were young (he guessed they were around Harry and Ginny's age). He even recalled fighting alongside most of them during the Battle of Hogwarts over a year ago. They all greeted each other warmly, cheerfulness spread over their faces. Conversations between them rose to a dull roar. Hagrid made an appearance, and much to Charlie's surprise, so did several Hogwarts' professors including McGonagall. He made a mental note to talk with her soon. George and Percy were among the last to arrive. ( _Got holed up at the store, we did_ , George said.)

Charlie sat next to Bill as he saw Ron escort their mother down the aisle. The man-less music ensemble played a soulful ballad. He joined Harry up front. Next came a girl with dirty-blonde hair that was made up in a bun. Her grey eyes took on a dreamy sort of gaze as if she was distracted by something no else could see. She wore a violet, strapless dress that hugged her ankles. In her hands, she carried a bouquet of red, purple, and white flowers.

After her, Hermione made her way down the aisle. When she did, Charlie's breath hitched in his throat. While her brown hair was made in an elegant bun much like the girl's before her, Charlie saw that her usual bushy mane had been tamed and smoothed over. She wore the same violet dress though he was more attuned with her face: She didn't wear heavy makeup, only a small amount, yet there was something about it that made Charlie squirm in his seat. She had on a shy smile as she held her own flowers. When she made her way to the front, she smiled at Harry. He grinned at her in return.

Charlie was transfixed, his gaze attached to Hermione. He supposed he was gawking at her appearance yet he couldn't help himself. It was an odd feeling for him as he didn't think she was that pretty. Instead, she was more graceful and poetic. Normally, Charlie charged after the birds who possessed full figures with buttocks to squeeze, of which Hermione had neither. But for some reason, he was drunk on her.

"Quit your drooling, will you," whispered Bill.

Charlie shook his head lightly and stood when everyone else did when his dad and Ginny made their appearance. His sister had a wide smile set over her face as her eyes had found Harry's. Mrs. Weasley was already crying while Mr. Weasley had a forlorn look about him. When he smiled, however, it was washed away. Hagrid trumpeted loudly from somewhere near the back while Charlie saw Fleur grab Bill's hand.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," a high-pitched voice said. Craning his neck, Charlie saw a short, plump wizard standing between Harry and Ginny. He barely came up to their elbows. He was aged, lines crisscrossing his face like a tic-tac-toe board. He was dressed in gold and white robes while his grey hair sat in rolls over his head.

"This very afternoon, we are gathered here to commemorate the union of Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley. A matrimony of two blessed souls…"

The rest of the officiator's words were drowned on Charlie's acute observation of Hermione. She was standing behind Ginny, smiling widely at the couple. She gave no indication that her earlier row with him was affecting her in any way. In fact, she looked quite radiant. He was impressed.

As the ceremony went on, Ginny's other bridesmaid ( _That's Luna Lovegood, that is_ , Bill whispered) was looking around herself as if Harry and Ginny's wedding was something of a bore to her. Ron was staring over at Hermione as if she were one of Fleur's Veela cousins (making Charlie look on with a strange jealousy) as Mrs. Weasley and Hagrid were locked in a ferocious battle trying to outdo the other in terms of hysterical crying. The officiator had to clear his throat loudly several times.

All the while, Charlie's bright blue eyes kept moving back over Hermione. He felt his palms collect motorways of sweat.

 _What's wrong with me_ , he asked himself harshly. _Why can't I stop looking at her?_

More than once he tried to keep away yet he found he couldn't. His eyes acted as if they had a brain of their own always sweeping back over the witch who had broken his nose. He licked his lips as Hermione surveyed the crowd, her brown irises falling upon his blue's. They stared at each other for a full minute, Charlie then having half a mind to go to her right then and there and apologize for his earlier outburst. He didn't, however, as Hermione tore her gaze away from him.

"With the guests in attendance as my witness, I now declare you bonded for life!"

The officiator waved his wand as a hive of silver stars bathed Harry and Ginny. A loud applause followed. Mrs. Weasley was crying so hard that she looked to be on the verge of collapsing. Meanwhile, Hagrid was wailing loud enough that several people near him had to cover their ears. McGonagall was the only one with enough sense to cast a Silencing spell over him.

"Now ladies and gentlemen," the fat wizard called out, "if you could please stand so the celebration can begin!"

* * *

Harry and Ginny began to dance as they were soon followed by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ron and Hermione. Luna turned in circles by herself in a lone corner. She looked content. Couples began dotting the floor while waiters in white jackets and black bowties ran through the crowd, large, circular trays in their hands.

Charlie took hold of a large glass of Simison Steaming Stout and swallowed it in one gulp. He watched Hermione trade partners and dance with Harry. Steam billowed out of his nostrils as he saw her laughing.

"Don't be such a spoil sport," Bill suddenly said from behind.

"I'm not," Charlie responded after a moment. "I'm just waiting until Hermione is alone so that I can go and apologize to her."

"Oh, right. And that's why you look like you drank a load of dragon piss?" Charlie shot him a dark look. "C'mon. I know you want to dance with her. Just grow a set and go up and ask her."

"Are you out of your bloody mind? After me yelling in her face earlier and ignoring her for the past week, you just want me to up and ask her to dace? How many times have I told you that I do not like her," Charlie said heatedly, stressing the last five words.

"It's just harmless fun. It's not like you're going to get married or anything. Besides, we're here for Harry and Ginny."

Charlie shrugged grumpily. "I doubt she'd even want to dance with me anyway."

"Hold on to that thought," Bill told him evilly. He then stalked away.

Charlie watched in horror as Bill marched up to Harry and Hermione. They both stopped midstride and looked at him.

 _If Bill's doing what I think he's doing, I'm going to kill him_ , Charlie seethed.

Hermione then followed Bill while Harry instead took up arms with Luna in the corner. They walked over to where Charlie stood embedded, unable to move his own two feet even though his brain screamed for him to do so.

"Well," Bill began as he and Hermione reached Charlie, "my brother here feels bad about what happened between you two earlier today."

At this, Hermione looked over at Charlie, her eyes clearly not believing what she was hearing.

"And as an apology, my brother would like for you to dance with him," Bill finished with glee. He flashed Hermione a wide smile.

"So Charlie couldn't come and ask me himself," she retorted.

"I don't want to dance with you," Charlie shook his head. "But I do want to say that I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier."

"So you sent Bill to ferry me over just to tell me that?"

Charlie felt his temper bubble as Bill's large grin faded considerably.

"Listen, can we spend one night where we don't argue with each other? I mean, we wouldn't want to cause a scene at Harry and Ginny's wedding, would we?"

"I don't know," she replied. "You're usually the one who starts everything. Kind of like when you followed me into the kitchen today."

"You see," Charlie pointed. "This is exactly why I find you unbearable," he stated. "You always have to have the last word on me. Do you know how exhausting that is?"

Before she could respond, Ginny suddenly appeared and asked, "Charlie's not bothering you, is he Hermione?"

This made Charlie snort.

Hermione, however, shook her head from side to side and told her, "No, we, um, we're just talking about the upcoming term, is all."

"Is that all," Ginny asked. She sounded like she believed Hermione as much as she believed in Father Christmas.

"Yeah," Hermione nodded. "We'll be done soon."

"C'mon, Ginny," remarked Bill. He held out his hand to her. "I believe you owe your favorite brother a dance."

She took hold of his hand though her eyes were still trained on the pair.

"Be nice to her, Charlie."

She then disappeared into a sea of dancers.

An uncomfortable silence fell over Charlie and Hermione. He rubbed the back of his neck while her arms were folded over her chest.

"Listen," he began, "before, I was out of line yelling at you the way I did. I don't take back what I said but I could've gone about it in a better way. And I guess…well, I guess I'm sorry."

She sniffed, "Thank you." She paused then tacked on, "And I suppose I do feel a bit of a need to have the last word. But it's not just you. It's with everyone really. I can be a bit insufferable at times."

 _More than a bit_ , Charlie mentally thought.

"We all have our faults," he suggested.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," he nodded.

"Why have you been so rude to me? I tried to think of an answer but I couldn't come up with anything good enough."

It was simple question yet it was one that had a difficult answer. Ever since he returned to England, memories of what life was like before the war had rushed back to him like a tidal wave of emotion. He was reminded of when his family was in one piece. But that was before Voldemort returned. Upon Fred's death, Charlie was crushed. It literally felt like a hole had been blasted through him as he and his family grieved. It was an uncomfortable reality that life ended for others far too quickly, leaving Charlie to wonder where Fred was now. His younger brother had taken the first steps in the unknown. Fred was beyond.

After Voldemort had been defeated, Charlie fled back to Romania to escape what remained of his family. He had intended to stay there for the remainder of his life with periodic visits back to England. He wallowed in depression when he realized he hadn't spent much time with Fred before his death. For one foolish reason or another, Charlie had always assumed the Weasley family would come out of the war unscathed. In all honesty, Charlie didn't think he'd ever get over losing Fred. While he was gone, he still remained everywhere Charlie looked.

"I don't really want to talk about it," he told her in a mumble. He tore his eyes away from her and onto a nearby table where two red-colored fairies slipped inside an empty bottle of Brandy.

Hermione regarded him closely before she nodded in acceptance. She said, "You shouldn't hold everything inside you, Charlie. You have to know that it isn't healthy."

"I know. I just want to figure some things out on my own." Looking back over at her, he continued, "Also, me being rude to you isn't your fault, it's mine. You didn't do anything wrong. It's kind of like you did too many things right."

She smiled lightly.

"So do you think we can be more civil towards each other," she asked. "I mean, we are going to be working together after all."

"Yeah, about that, I think I'm going to turn down McGonagall's offer."

Puzzlement penciled its way over Hermione's face. "What? Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't need the money. Besides, the job was only to pass the time until the new reserve opens next year anyway."

"So what are you going to do then?"

"I'll try to find a job in Diagon Alley. There's some places hiring."

"At Flourish and Blotts perhaps?"

Charlie grinned.

"No. I'm sure the witch that works the front desk is only interested in guys who don't make any purchases."

Hermione looked up at him, a ghost of conviviality in her eyes. However, they suddenly clouded.

"You're not pulling out of the Hogwarts position because of me, are you?"

Charlie grimaced as he licked his lips. Choosing his words carefully, he responded, "Not you in particular. Just more of a way to avoid you seeing me and me seeing you. Let's face it: We don't get along well at all. And who knows? We might end up dueling in the Great Hall at breakfast one morning."

"We're doing okay right now," she countered. "And if we can both agree to try to be nicer to each other, I don't see why you shouldn't take the position. You seem pretty excited about it."

"And how did you reach that conclusion?"

"You've had your nose tucked in a book all week. I've also seen you taking notes."

"Well, what about you? Weren't you supposed to start Healer training?"

"I was but when I got the offer to teach, I thought it'd be more fulfilling." She sighed. "But I'm serious. You don't have to decline the offer if you don't want to. Just do what you feel like doing."

He stared at her for a long moment.

"I'll think it over."

Hermione nodded. She then looked around and asked quietly, "Did you really want to dance or was Bill just saying that?"

Charlie was caught off guard as he stuttered, "Well, I…you know, he just saying…stuff, and yeah." The tips of his ears went red.

"I'll take that as a no then," she said. "Anyway, it was good talking to you normally for once."

"Right, um, good talk."

She gave him a faint smile before she turned away and met up with Ron. He had two dishes in his hand. He gave her one.

In reality, after speaking with her for several minutes, Charlie did, in fact, want to dance with her yet he didn't understand why. Maybe it was because he realized that she wasn't so bad after all. Certainly not as commanding and grouchy he once pinned her as. Maybe it was his eyes that got the better of him, thinking she looked rather pretty in that dress she was wearing.

It was certain though that Charlie still didn't have any feelings for Hermione. That, he concluded, was a fact. As the band continued to play, wedding guests carried on with their dancing. And Charlie sat by himself, staring at Hermione for the remainder of the night.

* * *

 **A/N** : I hope you enjoyed it! Tell me your thoughts with a review!


	4. Ginny's Warning

**The Sparrow Suite**

* * *

 **A/N** : Hello everyone! Here is where The Sparrow Suite diverges into new content I hadn't posted for A Tornado of Roses. When I initially wrote Chapter 4 when this story was first published over a year ago, I hit a roadblock towards the end of the chapter and found that I trapped myself in a corner I couldn't easily get out of. Therefore, I decided to stop writing for a few days to clear my head and just never got back into the story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Also, thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows! All are encouraging!

* * *

Chapter 4: Ginny's Warning

Charlie awoke the next morning with an erection tenting his navy boxer shorts. He blinked as a river of sunlight brooked across his face, slicing it in two. He then yawned as he stretched his arms high over his head. He had had a dream. Yet it was slipping quickly away from him like water in a drainer. He thought it was about a mane of bushy hair but he could be wrong. Pillowing his hands behind his head, he sensed that he dreamt in violet. Then it struck him: Hermione. That was who he was stuck on.

As Charlie got ready for bed the previous night, he simply concluded that Hermione looked attractive at the wedding. Plain and simple. Of course, he couldn't be bothered to ever admit the fact but it was true. During the reception, he studied her: How studios her eyes were when she was lost in a conversation, how a light pink brushed her cheeks when she laughed, how excited she was when she greeted her friends and former professors. He found himself smirking when she wiped off the light makeup she had on and when she slipped off her heels to massage her feet.

He sighed as he rolled off his bed and yawned again. He grabbed a pair of jeans off the back of his chair and stuffed them on. He then blindly reached into his wardrobe to grab a shirt. He slipped it over his head. After putting on a pair of black socks, he took down the stairs to use the loo. It was only when he turned the knob did he find it locked.

"Hurry up in there, will you," he called out, banging his fist loudly against the door. He had to take a leak. He reckoned emptying half a dozen bottles of Simison Steaming Stout contributed to his toiletry needs.

"Just a minute," he heard Hermione call from inside.

He rolled his eyes.

 _Great, first I dream of the witch. And now she's the first person I have to see in the morning?_

After several stranded seconds, the door opened as Hermione stepped out of it. A band of steam followed her. Charlie saw that she was snuggled in a bathrobe while her hair was hived in a towel.

She stopped when they caught each other's eye. Awkwardness balanced precariously between them. While they both had been rather cordial to each other last night, Charlie didn't know if it was to continue or if it had just been a flub.

"So do you think I can get through," he finally asked her.

"Right," she nodded, stepping aside.

As he walked in, he called over his shoulder, "And do you think you could make it hotter in here next time? There's a bit of a draft."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," she said without turning around.

Charlie scoffed and shut the door.

* * *

After a quiet breakfast (Mr. Weasley had already taken off for work, Harry and Ginny were on their honeymoon, and Ron still had his lights out), Charlie took to the orchard. With his back against a tree, several books were spread around him, opened to various pages. A stack of parchment was against his knee as he scratched away on them with his quill. He was taking notes of various magical creatures he would present to his classes for the upcoming term.

It was a short debate, if one could call it that, where Charlie mentally weighed the pros and cons of taking the Care of Magical Creatures position. What sealed the deal was that Hermione told him he should take it. He found it odd that her opinion on the issue superseded the positives and negatives he was able to come up with. Of course, it didn't much help matters that he also harbored a secret desire to return to Hogwarts. The majesty and pageantry of the ancient school of magic was hard to ignore.

Charlie licked his lips as he flipped forward several pages of one book. He read about the Billywig and jotted down its native origin, appearance, dietary habits, foes, living mechanisms, uses, and Ministry classification. He paused briefly as he checked over his work. Deeming it satisfactory, he smiled as he continued on.

Charlie worked like this for several hours, enraptured by his findings. He plowed straight through lunch, well into the afternoon. When Ron came to get him, evidence of an early sunset had dotted the sky.

"Mum's about to send out a search party," his brother told him.

Charlie looked up.

"Is it that late already?"

Ron nodded. "We're about to have dinner, actually."

"Must've lost track of the time," Charlie commented as he waved his wand. His books folded shut and leapt together in a neat pile. After arranging his notes, he tucked them into the inside flap of the topmost volume and levitated the stack as he got to his feet. They floated alongside him.

"Aren't you hungry," Ron asked him. They trekked back to the Burrow.

"A little," Charlie shrugged. In truth, food was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. Instead, all of the magical creatures he took notes on for the better part of the day had muscled their way into his stream of thought. He had learned so many things he never even bothered to consider that he was excited to teach to his students them.

"Well, I'm starving," Ron told him. He rubbed his stomach as it grumbled.

"What else is new?" Charlie grinned.

"Now you sound like Hermione."

"So she complains about that too?" Charlie rolled his eyes. "Is there anything she doesn't whine about?"

"Not much," Ron sighed. He paused and then said, "It's like I can't do anything right with her. There's always something she finds to criticize. Did you see that she turned in a bit early last night?"

"Not really," he lied. Charlie wasn't sure why he was fibbing. ( _Maybe it was because I don't want anyone else to know I was staring at her the whole damned reception._ ) But he did notice that Hermione excused herself from the wedding long before it had ended. He didn't think much of it.

"Yeah, well, her and I got into it."

"Really? What about?"

"Hermione thought I was pressuring her into marrying me," he answered.

Charlie couldn't help it. He laughed.

"And what's so funny," Ron asked. He sounded accusatory.

"It's just that it sounds so ridiculous," he said.

"What? You think it's unreasonable that I'm thinking of the future?"

"No, I think it's unreasonable considering the fact that you're still a kid. And Hermione, too. Why would you even think of throwing that away and rushing off into marriage?"

"You didn't say anything to Harry and Ginny," he retorted.

"And what was I going to say to them? They already had their minds made up about it. Besides, you know how Ginny can be."

Ron fell silent at this, his eyes cast to the ground. He looked to be deep in thought.

After a long moment, he posed, "So you don't think I should marry Hermione?"

Charlie looked over at his brother.

"I think you shouldn't rush off into it. Think about it: You have your whole life ahead of you to think about settling down. Why do it when you're so young? You're not even twenty yet!"

"It feels like everyone expects us to be together, you know? Me and Hermione, I mean. We've been dating for over a year now. That's enough time as any, don't you think?"

"Ron, I'm going to ask you something and I want you to think before you answer. Okay?" When he nodded, Charlie said, "Do you want to marry Hermione?"

They had stopped walking as Charlie's books hovered nearby. He looked over at Ron who was reflecting over his question. His brows scrunched together as lines laddered his forehead. His shoulders rose and fell evenly though Charlie could tell he was rather tense.

Overhead, the sunset stained the sky. Pink and purple stripes zigzagged like forks of lightning beyond the horizon as a mess of stars birthed into existence. Candle flames ping-ponged from behind the windows of the Burrow, flooding the ground in a yellow bath.

"I don't know," Ron shrugged. Confusion masked his face. Charlie almost felt sorry for him. "I thought I did and maybe I do but everything's a bit jumbled now."

"I'm going to give you the same advice Bill gave me when I was debating whether or not on making the move to Romania: Go out and live. We get one crack at being young before we have to grow up. Don't waste it."

"But I have feelings for Hermione," he defended. "And I know she does for me, too."

"Well you have a silly way of showing it with all the fighting you two do," Charlie replied.

"That's how it is between us," Ron said. "It was even like that at Hogwarts. It's nothing new."

"Don't you ever get tired of arguing with her all the time?" ( _I know I do_ , he mentally added.)

"Kind of," Ron nodded. They began to walk again. "Sometimes, that's the only way I can get her to pay attention to me."

"Pay attention to you," Charlie repeated. "What d'you mean?"

"Hermione's always focused on one thing or another. And ever since she got McGonagall's letter, she's been preparing nonstop for her classes."

"So have I," Charlie stated.

"But you're not in a relationship," Ron countered. He then sighed. "Sometimes I get this feeling that Hermione just isn't interested."

"Isn't interested in what?"

"Me," Ron said simply. He looked and sounded defeated.

"Do you know that for sure?"

"No, and it's not like I can just go up and ask her about it."

"Why not," Charlie asked.

"Are you mental," Ron replied. Shock detonated in his eyes. "Do you know how she'd react if I brought that up? I'd probably have a week-long stay in St. Mungo's."

Charlie bobbed his head left and right. "Well, she does have a tendency to jump to the wrong conclusions, doesn't she?" He regarded the fact that she refused to apologize for breaking his nose. After all, she was the one who slammed open the door. She was in the wrong yet she pinned the blame on him.

"Not only that but mum would probably breathe fire down my neck."

"Why's that," Charlie asked, looking over at Ron.

"She champions the idea of me and Hermione as a couple. And whenever we get in a row, mum usually takes Hermione's side. She always tells me off."

"Listen, you're never going to figure things out without communication. That's like the universal rule for all relationships. The longer you keep avoiding facing the truth, the harder it'll be when everything comes out in the open. And trust me, it always does."

"Sounds like you have a bit of experience with this," Ron suggested. He looked sideways at his brother.

"More than I care to admit."

"Was it someone in Romania?"

Charlie temporarily suffered a mental blockage. Ron was right: There certainly had been someone in Romania. But to be frank, Charlie hadn't thought of her in a long while. Not because he was hurting but because she just seemed so uninteresting a continent away. He licked his lips as he blinked rapidly.

"A little over a year ago, there was this bird I was attached to at the dragon reserve," he began.

"Really," Ron interrupted. "What was her name?"

"It isn't important," he waved off. "Anyway, she was one of four mediwitches we had working the hospital there. And let me tell you, she was a knockout. I can't even tell you how many times one of the handlers injured himself on purpose so that he could go and see her. I mean, I was like that too." He sighed at a lone memory. "One day, when she was treating a nasty burn I got from a Romanian Longhorn, I asked her out on a date. One thing led to another and we got pretty serious. After she moved in with me, I thought that I'd finally found the girl I was meant to be with. But that's when everything went downhill.

"Now, I want to be clear, I like sex just as much as the next bloke but she took it to a whole new level. All she wanted to do was shag. In the mornings, in the shower, after work, right after dinner, in the bath, before we went to sleep. At first, I thought I was in heaven. This bird, she could really move her body. But after a while, it got a bit stale. I think my feelings for her were superficial, in that because I liked how she looked, I kind of ignored her personality. We were compatible with sex but not much else."

Charlie paused, rubbing at his chin. He looked up at the Burrow without really seeing it while his mum's voice carried out of an open window. He briefly wondered who she was talking to. He then spotted a mane of bushy hair bustling about.

"After a while, I started to reject her advances. She grumbled and nagged and all that. It was rather annoying, actually. She acted like a little child. One day, we sat down and talked, much like how we did when we first started dating. She said we needed to air things about between us. Long story short, I found out that she wanted to nest and-,"

"To what," Ron cut across.

"To nest," he said again. "Meaning that she wanted me to provide her with some baby batter."

"So what did you tell her?"

"The truth," he shrugged. "That I wasn't ready for that. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because she then went off, raging about how all of her five or so sisters had kids of their own and that her father was threatening to cut her off if she didn't have a little one within the coming year. All a bunch of rubbish, really. I didn't believe in a word she said. And I told her so."

"Bet she loved that," Ron grinned.

Charlie did the same.

"She managed to douse me with a bit of water."

"That's it?"

Charlie scoffed, "You sound disappointed."

"Come on," Ron offered. "We don't get to hear many stories where a bird gets one off on you."

Charlie saw Hermione wave down a gang of mugs from an overhead cabinet.

"I tend to keep those birds in flight. Anyhow, the point I'm trying to make is that this whole issue between me and this girl could've been avoided if we'd only been upfront with each other. I wanted her for some shags and she wanted me to be the father of her child."

"I get you," Ron nodded. "But don't you think you were a bit unfair to her?"

"How so?"

"Well, she was willing to give you what you wanted but you didn't reciprocate."

"Ron, she didn't care that I was going to be the father. All she wanted was a father. And to be honest with you, given her temperament, I wouldn't at all be surprised if she took the child away from whatever unlucky bloke she traps into giving her a kid. She's a bit mental now that I think about it."

"So are you saying that you don't want any children?"

"No," he shook his head. "I just didn't want any with her."

The two dawdled into silence as they stepped into the kitchen. Upon seeing Hermione, Charlie told Ron quietly, "Just think things over." He clapped him on the shoulder. "It isn't a crime to live."

Outside, the sky was bleeding violet.

* * *

Over the next couple of days, Charlie took on a routine: Breakfast in the morning, class preparation, break for lunch, class preparation, indulge in dinner, review his day's work, and succumb to sleep. Of course, using the john was sandwiched in there somewhere. With this new schedule of his, Charlie found he often frequented the lake behind the Burrow. It was there where he had seen her: Hermione.

The day was warm, so much so that Charlie had half a mind to jump into the water. The surface shimmered under the sun. From his vantage point, it looked like a chest of diamonds had been scattered across the lagoon's bed.

His back was against a tree as he jotted down notes on the Fwooper. He remembered seeing one featured on the front window of Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley. As he finished his study of the creature, he lifted his head only to see Hermione edging her way towards the lake. This irritated him as now the infuriating witch was trespassing on his private hideaway. The Burrow didn't provide for much privacy (hardly any at all) and there were only so many alcoves of serenity that was provided outdoors. The lake was something Charlie could call his own, his escape when the Burrow brimmed with an excessive noise level that gifted Charlie a migraine. Now, that fell like feed to a fodder.

He watched as she scanned the area around her. Thankfully, she didn't think to look his way. Scoping several steps to the side, she drowned in the high grass, lost to view. Charlie stilled to see if she would pop back up but she didn't. He thought of relocating somewhere far away from her yet something kept him grounded. With his concentration blown, he set his parchment down and climbed on his knees. Craning his head, he could just spot Hermione with her feet in the water. In her lap, a thick book was split down its middle. She, like Charlie some moments prior, was taking notes.

He scoffed as he shook his head. For reasons unexplained, her mere presence destroyed his willingness to focus as he was just beginning to enjoy their unspoken of agreement to disregard the other's existence. Obviously, this accord was violated when she poisoned his citadel of escape.

Lurking like a lion amongst the tall grass, he saw that a loose curl escaped her ponytail of imprisonment. She looked to be hard at work, her eyes like telescopes as if she was drafting together an abstruse contract. She wore a plaid shirt, it checkered with purple, and a pair of jeans. She turned her head to the side, flipped forward several pages, read what was before her, and then began to write again.

Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Charlie quickly packed up his belongings. A wind whistled through his ears. Looking up at the sun and down at the water rather forlornly, he apparated away with a quiet _pop_.

* * *

Charlie organized his notes after he reviewed them, stacking them in a neat pile. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, palming his eyes with the heels of his hands. His vision was a bit hazy as he had worked for hours uninterrupted. He once again plowed through lunch. He had no choice really. The thirty-first of August was drawing nearer and he was woefully behind on his class preparations.

Without warning, his room door suddenly slammed open. Not expecting this abrupt imposition, he toppled backwards in his chair.

"What on the bloody earth-," he began as he picked himself off the floor. His face was tomato red.

"Charlie!" Ginny exclaimed as she barreled forward. She hugged his middle.

"Yeah, hi," he said back though he was rather restrained as he was still sour at his sister's unladylike entrance. "Back from your honeymoon already?"

"Just got in half an hour ago," she nodded.

"Kind of short, wasn't it?"

"Harry stars Auror training on Monday. He needed a couple of days beforehand. Besides, he promised me a second, longer honeymoon this winter."

"Two honeymoons? Don't you think that's a bit pretentious?"

"No," she replied rather snappishly.

He looked down at her and phrased, "Well, looks like Nice did you well. How was it?"

"Amazing," she sighed dreamily. "Never thought I would enjoy the beach more." She stared at a point somewhere behind Charlie's shoulder, lost in a reverie.

"And what about Harry? Did he enjoy himself?"

"For the first day or two. But he forgot to put on sunscreen. He got a bit burnt. Mum's fixing him up right now."

"He didn't need any moral support?"

"Ron's with him," she explained. "Besides, I wanted to talk to you."

"To me?" When she nodded, he asked, "What about?"

"Hermione."

At the mention of her name, Charlie tensed. He looked down at his sister wearily while she had pits of fire welling in her eyes. He knew there would be no sidestepping the conversation. Therefore, he sat back down in his chair as Ginny kicked off her shoes and took to his bed.

"Bill and I talked at the wedding," she began.

"I can only imagine what about," he interrupted. He then slouched.

"Anyway, he thinks you're interested in Hermione."

"You know, I'm not sure what it is that's so fascinating about me and her," he stated. "But Bill's been squeezing my balls over it for the past couple of weeks now."

Ginny made a disgusted face.

"That's an image I didn't need to see. Please remember that you're talking to your sister."

"Well it's true," Charlie defended. "He's been fixed on it ever since she broke my nose."

"Charlie, think about it," Ginny said, looking over at him. "You and I both know Bill. He isn't one to contribute to petty guesswork."

"He is this time," Charlie grumbled. He folded his arms over his chest.

"Maybe but I don't think so."

"Oh come on, not you too!"

"When you look at it from my-,"

"Ginny," he cut across. "I'm going to make this as clear as I can, okay? I do not like Hermione." He felt his blood start to boil.

"I didn't say you did!"

"No but you insinuated it!"

"Don't be so ridiculous," she scolded. In the heat of the moment, Charlie thought that she had done a great imitation of their mother. "I don't want to talk to you about…about possibilities, if you will. I just want to warn you: Don't hurt Hermione."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Don't be such a troll. I know about your conquests, shall we call them, at Hogwarts and in Romania. While I think they're disgusting, you obviously didn't."

"Who told you?"

She smirked. "You boys thought I was just quiet when I was younger. Well, I can't say that I didn't enjoy the pedestal you all put me on, namely you and Bill." Charlie sulked in his chair. "Yes, I know about how you gave your Quidditch jersey to all the girls you snogged in the prefects' bathroom and about the notches on your headboard that counts the number of girls you slept with in Romania." Ginny looked as if she had a foul taste in her mouth as she said this.

"None of those meant anything."

"Maybe not to you but I'm sure those girls would disagree."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "If you have a point, could you get to it?"

"All I'm telling you is to not play Hermione."

"You would seriously think I'd sink that low, would you? Being that she's dating Ron and all?"

"And where have you been the past week?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Charlie, Ron and Hermione broke up."

Shock ricocheted through him as he perked his brows upward. His hands went clammy as he recounted his conversation he had had with Ron. _Don't rush off into marriage_ is what he told him. _Go out and live_ was another. Did Ron actually take his advice and confront Hermione on her feelings over him?

"What happened?"

Ginny gave him a weird look as she said, "Ron apparently felt the need to see other people."

Charlie mentally cursed his youngest brother.

He asked next, "How did Hermione take it?"

"Depending on whom you ask, a bit too well. She practically agreed with him."

"On seeing other people?"

"Not really. It was more along the lines of her wanting out of their relationship."

"I thought they were going good?"

Ginny laughed. "Be serious, Charlie. Even I know you don't believe that! Weren't you the one who argued about how much they argued?" He shrugged. "I'm actually a little relieved that it finally happened."

"Nice to know how well you think of your friends."

"It's not that. I know Hermione's been meaning to end things with Ron. She just didn't know how to go about it."

"So she was leading him on, then," Charlie asked rather harshly.

"Don't pretend to feel sorry for Ron because I know you don't. You're only looking for excuses to lash out at Hermione."

"Am not!"

"You are too!"

Both siblings looked as if they were about to breathe fire.

"You see, this is why Bill thinks you have a thing for her. You suddenly get so defensive."

"I do not!"

Ginny threw up her hands and stated, "You know, that doesn't even deserve a response. I'm not going to go back and forth with you. Quite frankly, it'd be a waste of my time. But I'm serious, Charlie. Don't mess around with her."

"I wouldn't even if she were the last girl on earth. I don't have any feelings for her nor did I ever. When you and Bill get that through your thick heads, we'd all be much better off."

"And how about when you two are at Hogwarts?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Oh, don't be so silly. I know that men have…needs."

"And you think I'd go knocking on Hermione's door," he laughed. "Those _needs_ you speak of can be easily satisfied. But you don't have to worry. I'll keep away from her."

Ginny looked out of his window. The sky had grown dark. The thin blade of the moon peeked out as clouds trafficked across it. She looked like she was having an internal debate, deciding on if she should share a rather juicy secret with Charlie. She huffed.

"She doesn't think bad of you," was what she said.

"Who's that? Hermione?" When Ginny nodded, he recounted, "It seems like she does."

"She thinks you're immature, is all."

"I can't say that I have many positives things to say about her either." He didn't see Ginny roll her eyes.

"She also doesn't like your temper. But Ron wasn't much better."

"Anything else while you're at it?" Truthfully, Charlie wasn't sure if he could handle Ginny telling him anymore. He currently had half a mind to find Hermione and give her a real reason not to like his temper.

"If it makes you feel any better, she thinks you clean up well."

"Well, I'm glad that I – wait. What?" Had he heard Ginny right?

She scoffed. "Don't tell me you actually care."

"I don't," he replied quickly. "You just caught me off guard."

"Clearly," she smiled. "I kind of like that actually, catching you off guard. It's funny."

"I'm glad I can be your entertainment," he retorted. "So, um," he rubbed the back of his neck. "She, Hermione, I mean, she actually said that?"

"What's it to you?"

Charlie shrugged.

"We were talking at the wedding. That's all. She didn't think you could pull off dress robes the way you did. I think you took her by surprise."

"But it wasn't anything special."

"Maybe not to you." Charlie grew confused. "But I wouldn't get too comfortable with her compliments. I'm pretty sure she only said that about you because you and her got on well that night."

"Got on well," he mocked lightly. "We probably said about a dozen words to each other."

"No, it was nearly a full-fledged conversation."

"Now you're starting to see things."

Ginny stopped for a moment. "Yeah, you're right. I think I'm seeing more clearly now than before."

Charlie grew uncomfortable under his sister's gaze. He had trouble meeting her eyes so he instead stared down at the floorboards. He wondered when they became so withered.

"Well, I think I'll leave you alone now." Ginny stood up from his bed. She weathered a knowing smile. "'Night, Charlie." She exited his room without looking back.

* * *

A celebratory dinner called the Weasley family to the Burrow. It was the Sunday before Charlie and Hermione would leave for Hogwarts and Harry for Auror training. Mrs. Weasley had prepared a large feast as everyone elbowed their way to it. To say the small kitchen was crowded would a gross understatement. It mirrored that of an angry mob. Even though the table had been expanded to fit the extra accommodations, Charlie began to feel claustrophobic.

He chose to sit next to Percy though he soon regretted his decision in doing so. His brother tried to interest him in the laws he would pass once he left Weasleys' Wizard and Wheezes and returned to the Ministry of Magic. ( _Twenty-inch cauldrons are absolutely preposterous! And that's not even considering the depth of such monstrosities! Mark my words, Charlie, there'll be a sharp uptick in the number of home explosions with such cauldron sizes. St. Mungo's will be absolutely flooded! And on that topic, I think it would be wise to expand several of the wards there. With this sudden increase in immigration, who knows if these witches and wizards are actually visiting or if they're staying? I don't know if you know this but the Ministry actually supports such tourists. The Wizengamot is divided on the issue and let me tell you-_ )

He chanced a look down the table and saw Hermione and Ginny in deep discussion while George was informing Harry and Ron on the progress of new inventions for the joke shop. Charlie glued his eyes down to his plate of food when Hermione looked over at him.

 _No doubt Ginny's festering the fact that she believed I actually cared that Hermione thought I cleaned up well_ , he mentally seethed. _Well, she couldn't be more bloody wrong._

When dinner had been finished, the family retired to the living area. Charlie steered well clear of the corner Hermione and Ginny held under cartel though he also wished to avoid that of Percy. He settled down in a lone armchair, looking around cautiously. Quite honestly, he didn't think he could sit through more drivel.

"Now, about the fifteen-inch cauldrons," came Percy's voice so unexpectedly that Charlie jumped. He wondered if his brother actually considered the fact that Charlie found this topic of discussion interesting.

It was at this time, thankfully, that Ron made the announcement that he had been chosen to play the position of reserve seeker for the Caerphilly Catapults, a Welsh Quidditch team that had won the league cup eighteen times. As everyone sat in stunned silence, Ron went on, "And I'm leaving Wednesday." This caused a minor uproar, namely from Mrs. Weasley, who wondered if Ron had thought this through. "It's always been my dream!"

"But has it really, dear?" Mrs. Weasley wrung her hands together in front of her. "I thought you'd be interested in Auror training or the like?" Ron sighed and shook his head. "And have you even thought about living arrangements in Wales?"

"The team all rooms together," he shrugged. "Besides, did you have any idea that Ginny's moving out too?"

Everyone turned to look at her. She was in mid-conversation with Hermione when she paused. She seemed to welt under everyone's gaze.

"Is that true," her mother asked, her hands on her hips.

"Mum, I'm married," she reasoned. "Harry and I decided to go to Godric's Hollow."

"Godric's Hollow!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. "Ginevra, you're only eighteen!"

"But I'm married," she repeated again.

Mrs. Weasley spun around. She snapped, "Arthur, back me up here!"

Mr. Weasley looked as if he would rather participate in the simple act of dumpster diving instead.

"Well, Molly, Ginny's right," he said rather carefully. He then took off his glasses, rubbed them clean, and put them back on again. "She is married and of age. Ginny and Harry are free to do as they please. If moving to Godric's Hollow is what they have chosen to do, then who are we to stop them?"

"We're her parents! That's who we are!"

Ginny stood to her feet. "You can't honestly think we'd all stay here forever! We all have to move out sometime!" She looked around at her siblings and zeroed in on Charlie. He knew what was coming. "You let Charlie go all the way to Romania," she pointed out.

"Well that was different!"

"How? How was that different? He moved all the way across Europe! I'm barely moving a county away!"

"It's just too soon! I can't allow it! No! Absolutely not!"

Ginny turned to Charlie, clearly exasperated. "Help me out here, will you?"

Charlie was caught unaware as his gaze was trained on Hermione. When everyone turned to him, he said with a shaky laugh, "You know, Percy was telling me about fifteen-inch cauldrons and…," He trailed off when he saw Ginny's eyes ice over dangerously.

"Mum," he began, also standing, "Ginny's older now than I was when I left for Romania. You have to let her go," he said simply. "She's mature enough to make her own decisions."

"But what if it's a mistake," she addressed him.

"Then it's a mistake she'll learn from," he shrugged. "But moving to Romania was one of the best decisions I ever made. And I'm positive Ginny will feel the same way. Sure, this is home and it always will be. But there isn't anything wrong with having more than one."

Mrs. Weasley sighed greatly. Charlie wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she turned back to her daughter and told her quietly, "I guess you're both right. I can't keep you here forever, can I?" She smiled sadly as age taxed her face. "Just be sure to drop by every now and then."

Charlie stepped back as Ginny shared a hug with her mother. Over her shoulder, she whispered over, "Thank you."

Charlie nodded once at her.

"Well, there's cake if anyone wants a piece," Mrs. Weasley announced halfheartedly, dotting her eyes with her apron. She went into the kitchen. Mr. Weasley followed her.

As soon as she left, Ginny whirled on her brother and spat, "Thank you, Ron, for trying to numb your last-minute stupidity on me. Have you ever been on the receiving end of my Bat-Bogey hex? There's a first time for everything, you know."

Bill stepped in front of her while Harry pulled Ron away. Ginny was starring daggers at him.

"I panicked," Ron protested. "I didn't mean to tell her."

"That doesn't excuse the fact that you did," she bit back. "What a horrible excuse you are for a brother! At least Charlie defended me!"

"Only because you forced him to," he shot over. "Didn't you hear him? He wanted to listen to Percy!"

"Ron, try to not insult your own intelligence," Charlie said. "I mean, c'mon."

"Now wait just a minute-," Percy joined in. He looked from Charlie to Ron and back again.

"Ha! I find it funny you'd associate Ron with an ounce of intelligence," Ginny shrieked, laughing madly after.

"Listen here, you lunatic-,"

"ENOUGH!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. She was framed in the entrance of the kitchen, her hands balled at her sides. "ALL OF YOU GET IN HERE AND EAT SOME CAKE! IF NOT, YOU WILL ALL GO STRAIGHT TO BED!"

Not willing to pass on dessert, they trooped back into the kitchen. At the table, Ginny sent death glares over at Ron who pointedly ignored her. Percy had moved his talk of cauldrons over to his father though he kept jerking his gaze over his shoulder at Charlie as if he should be jealous. Mrs. Weasley continually dabbed at her eyes while Fleur was trying her best to teach Bill and George phrases in French. Harry and Hermione were talking back and forth to each other at the corner of the table. Charlie thought he heard her talking about someone named Neville but he couldn't be sure. Maybe tomorrow he'd ask her about it. After all, like Bill had warned, did Charlie really want to be pissing with his neighbor all term? Maybe, and maybe not.

* * *

 **A/N** : Please leave a review to let me know your thoughts!


	5. Oxy

**The Sparrow Suite**

* * *

 **A/N** : Hello everyone! I just wanted to make a quick note that this chapter battled me to pieces when I tried to write it. I'm not sure why exactly but I felt like putting my head through a wall on several different occasions. The first part was easy but quickly deteriorated from there. Also, thanks for the continuing support in the form of views, reviews, favorites, and follows! For some reason, FanFiction has seen an arid landscape of new Charlie/Hermione stories.

* * *

Chapter 5: Oxy

Charlie was in a rush. He had meant to wake up at the crack of dawn and turn up at Hogwarts before the sun announced its arrival for the day ahead. He wanted McGonagall to know that although he was still young, he was serious about the teaching position he was asked to fill and had every intention of carrying himself in a professional manner. Of course, that was before he had hooked up with a bird he met in Diagon Alley.

No, it wasn't the witch from Flourish and Blotts (because quite frankly, in Charlie's humble opinion, she was only interested in men who made no purchases) but instead a girl he ran into just outside Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The pair had spent the rest of the day together. After a rather boring dinner, she invited Charlie back to her flat. He then proceeded to make the most of his time and let her get familiar with his dangly-bits. Charlie then made introductions of his bell-end and her fanny. Needless to say, after a wild session, Charlie was exhausted and fell asleep.

When he came to, he realized what day it was. He then jumped out of her bed and spun around in a tornado, acting like a lunatic who had just escaped a mental asylum, accidentally grabbing her clothes instead of his. Unable to string together a coherent thought, he apparated back to the Burrow completely naked. Lucky for him, he managed to make it to his room without getting splinched.

Now, with his trunk open atop his bed, he was flinging articles of clothing over his shoulder like a Muggle workout routine. Never mind the fact that his wand was tucked behind his ear for he had two slices of toast stuffed in his mouth. He wondered it was a small miracle that he didn't choke. Charlie turned towards his window only to have sunlight pool his face. He quickened his tempo. Whipping towards his desk, he grabbed his stack of books and hurled them towards his trunk. Unfortunately, the girl from last night had supposedly pilfered his aim for the thick tomes instead dented his wall. Doodled lines sprung out like the legs of a spider from it. He took hold of a half dozen quills and stuffed them in his trunk. He then threw the rest of his belongings inside and closed the lid.

Deciding he needed a breather, he collapsed onto his bed. His heather blue polo was marred in sweat while his black slacks felt a bit too tight around the buttocks. A simple spell had that easily corrected but that could be done later. As Charlie stared up at his ceiling, images of the previous night flashed in his head. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy himself, he concluded she ranked as one of his better shags, there just wasn't any meaning behind it. He felt empty then as he did now. Sure, her abilities to nosh were head-spinning but Charlie wondered if that would matter next week. He figured it wouldn't.

Although he ignored Bill's proposal to stop having his one-night flings, Charlie needed to get one in before term started. Yeah, Hogsmeade was certain to host a nice selection of pretty witches but could they be compared to those in London? _Probably not_ , he surmised. _There's some good ones over there._ Sighing, he sat back up and waved his wand, shrinking down his trunk to the size of a matchbox. He put it carefully in his pocket. He then took to the loo where he combed his short, red hair before making his way down to the kitchen.

"All ready, then," his mum asked with his entrance.

"Yeah, I think I got everything," he nodded.

"You have a good term, okay," she said, wrapping him in a hug.

"I will."

"Be sure to write if you need anything at all."

"No problem."

"And try to be a bit nicer to Hermione, dear."

"Of course I – hold on. What?" Charlie pulled away from her. His brows were pulled together.

"She's going through a rough patch right now with her breakup from Ron and all," Mrs. Weasley stated, wringing her apron in her hands. "She could use a friend."

"She has Ginny, doesn't she," Charlie replied rather tersely.

"Yes but I meant someone at Hogwarts," his mum said. "I know you two don't have the best understanding of each other but I think the both of you would do well to build some sort of relationship."

"Out of the question," he shook his head. "I don't care what you, Bill, or Ginny think I don't have any feelings for her."

"I didn't say any such thing," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Just more along the lines of a friendship. You two are more alike than you think," she continued. "I can see it even if you can't."

Before he could reply, he was nearly tackled from behind. He looked over his shoulder to see his sister. He smiled down at her.

"Not going to miss me too much, are you," he asked.

"Maybe a little," she shrugged once she released him. "But you can be sure that I'll miss Hermione more."

"I can see how much the family means to you."

Ginny grinned then turned serious. "You will be good to her, won't you?"

"Are you and mum on something this morning? Why do you keep bothering me about Hermione for?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's not like you guys won't be working together or anything." She moved over to the stove and readied a kettle. Charlie figured she was preparing herself some tea.

"We're not trying to trouble you, dear, but is there any harm in trying to be friends with her? I mean, really," Mrs. Weasley smiled.

"If I agree with you, can I go? I'm running a bit late."

"You said that McGonagall didn't specify a time for you in her letter," Ginny accused, turning to face him.

"She didn't," Charlie responded simply.

Ginny shook her head in agitation and turned back to the stove. The kettle screamed under her watch.

"You'll be sure to come home at Christmas?" His mum looked up at him.

"Probably," he answered.

She nodded. "Off you go then."

Breathing out, Charlie stepped back. And with Ginny watching him from the stove, he apparated away.

* * *

Charlie appeared in a thick wall of fog, it being so dense that Hogwarts castle was nothing but a shadow in the distance. He stepped up to the black, wrought-iron gates. Twin columns stood on either side and were topped by statues of winged boars. Though he knew it was foolish, Charlie nevertheless tried to push open the front gate. It wouldn't budge.

"Is you's Master Charlie," a high-pitched voice suddenly asked. Charlie, rather alarmed, looked around for its source. Fog stared back at him.

"Who's there," he called out. He drew his wand.

Very slowly, a head emerged from behind one of the winged boars. Round, tennis ball-shaped eyes followed.

"Is you's Master Charlie," the high-pitched voice repeated.

"Um, yeah," he said aloud and swallowed. "I'm the uh, I'm the new professor for Care of Magical Creatures. McGonagall, I mean, Headmistress McGonagall sent me a letter telling me to arrive before classes start."

The body of a small house-elf then came into view. Charlie stared up at it in fascination. He hadn't come across too many house-elves before as his family didn't own one nor were they much needed on the Romanian Dragon Reserve. He, of course, knew about them yet had never before come into direct contact with one.

"Who are you," Charlie asked.

"Oxy, Master Charlie, Oxy, the house-elf," it introduced and bowed. Oxy nearly toppled forward as he was still standing atop one of the stone columns.

"Um, hi," he responded rather awkwardly. Charlie saw that Oxy was small and skinny with bat-like ears. He was wearing pine green swimming trunks and a purple beanie that capped his head. He looked incredibly young. "I guess you work here, then?" Charlie didn't know what else he was to say.

"Yes, Master Charlie, Oxy works here at Hogwarts!" The elf said excitedly, gesturing to the shadow in the fog.

"Well, that's good." Oxy continued staring down at him energetically. "Do you think we can uh, you know, go through?" Charlie pointed at the front gates.

"Of course, Master, of course! Oxy will always help! Always help!" With the snap of his fingers, Oxy materialized right next to Charlie. When the elf took his hand, it fit in Charlie's like that of a small child's. Together, they walked towards the gates. Though Charlie was sure they'd both run head-first into it, they passed through easily, wisps of black smoke hanging behind them like capes. The pair made their way up the sloping lawns towards the castle.

"So Oxy," Charlie began rather clumsily, "what do you do up at Hogwarts?"

"Oxy serves, Master Charlie," the elf answered happily, his hand still clutching Charlie's.

"Serves?"

"Oxy takes care of Master Charlie, Missus Hermione, and Master Neville's living accommodations!"

"Neville?" Charlie asked. _Didn't Hermione talk about him a couple of nights ago at dinner?_ "Who's that?"

"Master Neville is the new Herbology professor, Master Charlie! The new Herbology professor!"

"What happened to Professor Sprout?"

"Oxy knows that Professor Sprout retired," he answered easily. "Oh, yes, Oxy knows! Oxy knows!"

"That's too bad," Charlie remarked. "I quite liked her."

The fog was thick as they pushed through it. Hogwarts was still a blurred silhouette. The air was rather cold as nests of goose bumps mushroomed over Charlie's arms. Not helping matters was Oxy's hand which was dank and clammy.

"Do you know if um, if Hermione is here already? She's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. To you, it probably looks like she has a bad case of bed hair or something." Charlie hadn't seen her before he left the Burrow though he hadn't minded. He was curious, however, if she had already became accustomed with her living quarters. ( _You wouldn't want to be pissing with your neighbor all term, would you_ , Bill's voice rang in his ears.) Charlie shook his head.

"Oh, yes, Missus Hermione arrived very early, very early indeed," Oxy nodded, his bat-like ears flapping as if he was trying to fly away. Almost as an afterthought, the elf added, "Missus Hermione is too kind."

"You think so?"

"Missus Hermione gave Oxy these, Master Charlie!" He looked over and saw Oxy extend out his swimming trunks. When he let go, it snapped back against him with a loud _thawp_. He did it again and giggled at the sound. Charlie almost followed suit. "Missus Hermione thought Oxy was much too exposed, much too exposed!"

"You didn't have anything to wear before?"

"Oh, Oxy did, Master Charlie. Yes, Oxy did." He nodded though Charlie noticed his carefree mood had deteriorated. "Oxy owned a fine golden robe, Master, very fine indeed!"

"What happened to it?"

"It was taken from Oxy," the elf replied. "It was taken from Oxy by Berry!" He shuddered.

"And who's Berry?"

"The Chieftain of the Federation of House-Elves at Hogwarts," Oxy said. Charlie looked over at Oxy as if he was a nutter. He supposed the little elf was.

"Oh, well, can't you get it back?"

"No, Master Charlie, Oxy can do no such thing! Berry would be angry with Oxy, very angry." His whole body trembled.

"Why did Berry take your robe from you?"

"Because Oxy is new to Hogwarts, Master Charlie," he squeaked. "And Berry thought that Oxy didn't deserve to wear such a fine garment!"

Charlie frowned. _This Berry fellow sounds like a right bully, taking things from others just because he can._ Charlie himself had seen similar intimidation tactics on the Romanian Dragon Reserve for new handlers. Though veterans pegged it as harmless fun, Charlie doubted the employee who had his entire wardrobe fed to an Antipodean Opaleye would agree. He then figured he'd sit Berry down and talk some sense into him when he got the chance. He'd get Oxy's robe back, he promised himself.

"So, Oxy," Charlie began, thinking over what Bill had told him, "where do the professors live exactly? Out of their offices, right?" He hung onto a thin thread of hope that maybe Bill had been wrong when he said that the professors' living quarters were all grouped together. If he was, then Charlie wouldn't have to worry about being considerate of Hermione.

"Most professors live in their offices, Master Charlie," Oxy told him. Charlie let out a deep sigh of relief. "But Headmistress McGonagall told Oxy that she purposely arranged for Master Charlie, Missus Hermione, and Master Neville to live near each other."

"What do you mean by _near each other_?" He suddenly felt uneasy.

"Master Charlie will see soon enough! Oxy will show him! Yes, Oxy will!"

The two stepped up to the front doors of Hogwarts castle, the fog stirring behind them. When Oxy pushed against the closed doors, Charlie was sure his twig-like arm would snap in half. He was surprised, however, when they opened instead. Charlie looked around in wonder as he made his way through the Entrance Hall. It was just as he remembered. The thought made him smile. He and Oxy then passed the Great Hall which resembled a grand sanctuary on a Monday without its staff and students. Charlie noticed that the house tables were absent.

Oxy led Charlie to a large door that was flanked by two stone gargoyles. Upon hearing dual sets of footsteps approach, the gargoyles opened their eyes and stared beadily at Charlie.

"Password," they asked in unison. Charlie deliberated they uncannily resembled Fred and George, both of whom had almost always said the exact same thing at the exact same time.

"Psst," Oxy whispered up to Charlie. He looked down to see the elf waving at him. He bent forward as Oxy told him softly, "The password, Master Charlie, is ice mice."

"Ice mice," Charlie repeated to the gargoyles. They glared at him as the door between them opened. Oxy pulled Charlie through quickly. The elf looked up at the gargoyles in a panic.

As the door closed behind him, Charlie looked around the room he was in: Long panels sided the walls where portraits of famed witches and wizards hung. Mismatched chairs were tucked into half a dozen tables. A grand fireplace, made of white brick, huddled a corner, adorned with a large, round clock. The carpet was an ugly green-yellow combination. A wide arch at the far end led down a corridor.

"This, Master Charlie, is the staffroom," Oxy exclaimed proudly. "Oxy cleaned it just this morning!"

"Well, it certainly looks like you did," Charlie nodded. And it did: The room was spotless.

Oxy beamed.

"You there, young boy!" a voice called out.

Charlie turned around and saw that it was a portrait that had addressed him. He stepped forward and saw a silver plaque glued under the painting of a bald, skeletal man. It read:

Tiby Tubbers  
Hogwarts, Herbology Professor 1533 – 1659  
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Head Healer 1660 – 1754

"Your hair is a nasty shade of red," it assessed. "Have you recently been in contact with the plant Aconite?"

"It's my natural hair color," Charlie defended hotly.

"That makes matters much, much worse," Tiby said, scratching his chin. "I suppose the poison is now in your bloodstream. To remedy this, you must bathe in the blood of Flesh-Eating Slugs every full moon while dieting on raw eggs. You are obliged to continue this for exactly one year, three months, and seven days. Afterwards in which your hair will return to a normal brown color."

"At least I've got hair," Charlie snapped, turning away from Tiby.

"Would Master like Oxy to show him his room," Oxy asked. He looked hopeful.

"Sure, why not?"

As Oxy led Charlie under the wide arch, Tiby yelled, "Young boy! You have a most serious affliction! I suggest you heed my warning and do as I say! Young boy, come back here! Your hair color is not normal! What an ugly shade it is!"

They stepped into a long corridor, it also being rather wide. Rough, stone walls supported bulky torches with small bubbles of fire emanating from them. Oxy stopped in front of a lone door. "This is Master Charlie's room," he said and pushed it open. Oxy's introduction, however, was less than pleasant though it was no fault of the elf's. It was Hermione's. Cookshanks sat atop of Charlie's bed licking his privates. He looked up at Charlie and held his gaze for a split second before returning to his cleaning duties.

"Damn cat," he seethed, stepping forward and grabbing Crookshanks. "Where's Hermione's room," Charlie asked vigorously, turning to Oxy.

The little elf hunched over and pointed directly across the hall.

Charlie pounded loudly on her door. She opened it looking harassed.

"Lose something," he asked nastily, shoving Crookshanks in her face.

"No," she bit back but grabbed him nonetheless.

"Your cat was in my room," he told her harshly.

"I told him he could go exploring," she returned.

Charlie guffawed without humor. "That's trespassing."

"Oh, stop acting like a small child," she responded bitterly.

"Takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

Hermione scoffed and slammed the door in his face.

"Do you see what I have to deal with!" he yelled down at Oxy, venting his anger at the poor elf. He cowered in fear with his arms over his head. "What a maddening witch!" Charlie then went into his room and kicked his door closed.

An abrupt stillness flooded him. He tried taking deep breaths but found it to be more of a hindrance than an assistance.

 _Who does she think she is, letting that ugly cat roam free in my room? This is my personal space, damn it! Wouldn't be surprised if the thing soiled my bed!_ Just to be sure, Charlie checked. It was clean. _Still, what sane person tells a cat to_ go exploring _? It isn't a human being for crying out loud! Those ridiculous things should be kept outdoors!_

As the seconds ticked by, Charlie felt his anger slowly dissolve. Of course, that didn't dampen his aggravation towards Hermione.

 _She probably knew this was my room_ , he gathered. _Told, no ordered, Crookshanks to take a leak or two and scatter some droppings in the corners._ He shook his head slightly.

Placing his hands on his hips, Charlie looked around his room for the first time and saw that it was rather large. A bookshelf was snuggled into one corner, it being next to a desk with an accompanying chair. A small shelf stood on its other side. His bed was close by, the middle of it depressed from Crookshanks' weight. Beside this was a small couch which sat under a window. A tall wardrobe was pushed against one wall while a full-length mirror was its neighbor. The other side of his living quarters was occupied by small kitchenette, set with a round table and four chairs. He guessed a far door led to the loo. The floor was covered in a soft carpet colored purple.

Charlie reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out his shrunken-down suitcase. He placed it on his bed and waved his wand, returning it to its natural size. He then charmed his clothes to fold themselves into the drawers of the wardrobe while hanging up his dress shirts and polos.

Returning his hands to his pockets, Charlie walked the length of the room, appraising it. He liked it as it was far bigger than his own room back at the Burrow. He felt he could move about it comfortably. He also liked how quiet it was. He couldn't even place a number on how many times he was awaken by one of his siblings charging down the staircase. Every step or so emitted a loud squeak that was like nails on a chalkboard. It was a marvel that no one thought to fix it. Charlie would've done so yet Romania occupied most of his adulthood.

It might go without saying that life on the dragon reserve wasn't quiet either. However, the dragons weren't the problem, their handlers were. Being located near a Romanian town had its perks yet it also had its drawbacks. A dozen or so handlers would find themselves in a number of bars Friday night, drinking for the weekend ahead or trying to pick up a bird to shag senseless. Charlie was part of these escapades when he was younger but as time went on, he found these weekly trips less appealing. He also learned rather quickly that girls you'd find in bars were sprinters. Charlie played more to endurance. The best shags lasted the longest.

A soft knock drew his attention. He walked over to the door only to find that no peephole existed.

"If it's anyone named Hermione, sod off!" he yelled.

"It's Oxy, Master Charlie! Oxy, the house-elf!" Charlie barely heard him. He opened the door.

"Hey, Oxy," he greeted. "What do you need?"

"Headmistress McGonagall requests for Master Charlie's participation at lunch," he squeaked. "Headmistress McGonagall wishes for Master Charlie to meet her in the Great Hall at half past noon."

"What time's it now," Charlie asked, realizing he'd forgotten his watch at home.

"The day is ten hours late!" Oxy answered.

"Okay, great," he nodded. "Thanks for letting me know." Oxy bowed low to the ground. Before the elf left, Charlie said, "Also, sorry about yelling at you earlier. I didn't mean to."

Tears welled in Oxy's eyes following Charlie's statement.

"Oh, Master, Master," he sobbed, running forward and hugging Charlie's ankle. "Master is too kind to Oxy, much too kind! What did Oxy do to deserve a Master like Master Charlie? What did Oxy do?!"

Charlie awkwardly patted the beanie on Oxy's head.

"Right," he tried to console. "I like you too."

Oxy pulled away, thick ropes of snot dangling from his nose. He wiped his arm at them and sniffed. He then smiled up at Charlie and disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

Charlie closed the door and figured he had enough time to get in a bit of shut-eye. After his hectic morning, a couple hours of sleep was sure to do him some good. Tilting his head to the left and right, Charlie pulled his polo over his head and threw it on the couch. He kicked off his shoes as he crawled on his bed, grabbing one of the many pillows and punching it to fit the shape of his head. He laid down and closed his eyes.

* * *

In what felt like a matter of seconds, Charlie was shaken awake by Oxy. The little elf was in a frenzy as he exclaimed wildly, "Master Charlie must hurry! Master Charlie must attend lunch with Headmistress McGonagall!"

"Is it that time already," he yawned, stretching his arms over his head. He rubbed his eyes.

"Yes! Master must hurry!" Oxy was now jumping up and down on one of his pillows.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," Charlie grumbled. He rolled off his bed and blindly searched for his discarded polo. "It's around here somewhere," he commented. His vision was still thick with sleep. When he found it, he threw it over his head and adjusted the collar. "The Great Hall, you said," he asked, turning to Oxy with another yawn.

The elf nodded feverishly.

Tucking into his shoes, Charlie followed Oxy out into the corridor. When they made their way into the staffroom, Tiby Tubbers, who had been snoring so loudly that he drew scandalous looks from his fellow portraits, snorted awake. Seeing Charlie, he called out, "Young boy! I must warn you that your red hair is most unnatural! You look like a carrot top! It is most abnormal!"

"Go stuff yourself," Charlie told him ruthlessly as he passed by.

Tiby gasped. "Young boy! I tried to help you! Yes, indeed I did! Now you will have to suffer the consequences! Away with you and your most atypical red hair! I wish not to be infected with such a revolting sight!"

When Charlie entered the Great Hall, he saw that a single table had been prepared. Headmistress McGonagall was seated along with that of Professor Flitwick, the latter of who was conversing with a familiar-looking boy. A large man who had a walrus-like mustache was chatting happily with Hermione. Charlie saw that two seats were vacant.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said, fixing her eyes on him. Everyone else followed suit. "I'm glad you could finally make it."

"Sorry that I'm late," he said. "I fell asleep."

"Please, take a seat," she directed. Unfortunately, she had gestured next to Hermione. He inwardly groaned.

"We'll excuse your tardiness as Sybill too seems to be running behind." Charlie thought that McGonagall sounded somewhat irritated. He also could've sworn he saw Hermione roll her eyes. "Shall I make introductions?" She didn't wait for an answer as she began, "Of course, you know Professor Flitwick." Charlie smiled and waved at the tiny Charms teacher. "Next to him is our new Herbology professor, Neville Longbottom." Charlie then remembered why he looked so familiar before: Neville was the one who cut off the head of Voldemort's snake. "Here," she signaled towards the man with the walrus-like mustache, "we have our Potions master, Horace Slughorn. And next to you is Hermione Granger. She has accepted the post for Defense Against the Dark Arts." McGonagall then directed her attention at the table's occupants and announced, "This is Charlie Weasley. He is going to fill the position left behind by Hagrid for Care of Magical Creatures."

"You've got some pretty big shoes to fill, don't you, Charlie," Flitwick piped in.

"Not big enough that I can't handle," he returned warmly. Charlie had always liked Flitwick.

"Now that that's done, I've been meaning to ask you if your living arrangements are satisfactory," McGonagall said, looking at Charlie, Hermione, and Neville. "I thought that since you three are rather close in age, you'd naturally want to be by each other. If not, I can make the necessary adjustments."

"It's great, professor," Hermione answered. She suddenly stopped then rectified with a light pink coating her cheeks, "I mean Minerva." She chuckled nervously.

"That's one conversation you missed, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said over to him. "Now that you are a professor at Hogwarts, you have every right to call us by our first names. It'll certainly take some getting used to but you'll soon grow accustomed to it." She gave him such a small smile he could've imagined it. "And how is your room? If I'm not mistaken, you are directly across the hall from Miss Granger."

Charlie looked over at her, their earlier spat still in its infancy. He wondered if he had overreacted. After all, Crookshanks was doing what all cats do, right? He just startled Charlie, is all. Be that as it may, he couldn't fathom apologizing to Hermione. Especially after she refused to resolve matters pertaining to his broken nose. He wasn't holding a grudge, was he?

"It's fine, yeah, totally fine," he replied, nodding his head as if he was trying to convince himself this was true. "I'm sure Hermione and I will get along."

As McGonagall turned to Neville, Hermione looked over at Charlie. He held her gaze. Though no words were exchanged, the space between them spoke volumes. Charlie felt his stomach flip uncomfortably as she dropped her eyes and turned away from him. He licked his lips and felt confused.

"Now, I'm sure that you three are well aware by now that Oxy the house-elf will help you with anything you may need. It goes without saying that you may also come to any of us," McGonagall nodded to Flitwick and Slughorn, "as well."

"Minerva," Hermione began, "when I arrived this morning, Oxy was…well, he didn't have on any clothes. I gave him a pair of Muggle swimming shorts so he could cover himself up."

"And I provided him with a beanie," Neville added.

This made Charlie wonder if he too should have gifted Oxy with a piece of clothing. He now felt bad that he didn't. He resorted to saying, "Oxy told me that some other house-elf named Berry took what he had. A gold robe or something like that."

McGonagall looked thoughtful. "In the past, Berry has been known to bully some of the younger elves. I thought we'd put a stop to that. I'll look into the matter," she assured. "But I'm happy that you three seem to be quite taken with Oxy. I'm positive we made the right decision in bringing him in."

"He's thrilled that he's here," Hermione noted.

"Yes, he was very keen to get to work," McGonagall agreed. "He actually volunteered to supply you with the most hospitable means. You can thank him for your rooms. He was the one who set them up and cleaned them."

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall banged open, startling everyone. Professor Slughorn, who happened to be holding a goblet of Pumpkin Juice in his hand, jumped so much that he accidentally overturned his drink on top of Professor Flitwick. Charlie looked over his shoulder and saw Professor Trelawney gliding towards them. She had a faraway look in her eyes.

"Sybill, I didn't expect you to be so late," McGonagall said curtly. "We were about to get started without you."

"I've been crystal gazing, Headmistress," she said mythically. "And the Fates had informed me that I was to be delayed to our midday gathering." Charlie heard Hermione snort beside him.

"Well do sit," she pressed. "I'm sure we all have matters to attend to afterwards."

Professor Trelawney seemed not to have heard her for she continued on in a raised voice, "I'm afraid the Inner Eye has been troubling me as of late! Yes, indeed! The Sight has been clouded by-," However, at that moment, Professor Trelawney tripped over her shawl and fell into the table. They both collapsed onto the floor.

Charlie instantly stood up and helped Professor Trelawney to her feet. "Are you okay," he asked her. She gripped his shoulders tightly.

"Yes, my dear," she said mistily. She reeked of Sherry. "I was tempted by the Fates to dress up for such an occasion." Charlie didn't think she was wearing anything she wouldn't have worn on any normal day. He handily remembered how Professor Trelawney was always cocooned in a vast number of shawls in his third-year when he had first taken Divination. It seemed, however, as if she didn't recognize him.

After Professor Flitwick righted the table, a vast assortment of foods suddenly appeared. It was then that Charlie realized how hungry he was. While he loaded his plate with a large helping of beef casserole, Charlie thought he heard Professor Trelawney chanting quietly next to him. He looked over at her as he saw that her eyes were closed. He looked around and detected she had attracted the attention of both Professor McGonagall and Hermione as well.

Professor Trelawney then threw her head back and cried out incoherently, banging her fists against the table. The cutlery rattled. In her most faraway voice, she yelled, "The Fates are calling to me! They are stronger than before! I can see seeds of red! A purple meadow! And fine threads of gold!"

"Really, Sybill," McGonagall said tartly. "Must you do this now? Can't you see we are trying to eat?"

Professor Trelawney's head swiftly snapped back in place. Charlie was surprised the Fates didn't complain about whiplash. She gave McGonagall a cold look. When she spoke, her voice had lost a great deal of its mistiness. "If you must know, Minerva, one does not choose a time to be called upon. Such just happens. The Fates are not bothered by mundane matters such as luncheons." She sniffed haughtily.

"Is Firenze co-teaching Divination this year," Hermione asked McGonagall.

"I should think not!" Trelawney exclaimed wildly. "That horse is much too busy feeding on the front lawns to teach such a noble art!"

Hermione looked affronted.

"I'm afraid he isn't," McGonagall answered as if there had been no interruption. "He has already let me know that his colony has accepted him back into the Forbidden Forest."

As she said this, Charlie heard Trelawney mutter, _"She's afraid he isn't!"_ and _"His colony?! More like a wild band of four-legged Neanderthals!"_

* * *

Later that night, Charlie sat on the floor of his room, notes for his first Care of Magical Creatures class like collapsed headstones around him. Oxy was nearby scrubbing the front of Charlie's wardrobe with a duster. ( _It can never be too clean, Master Charlie! Never too clean_ , Oxy said to him when Charlie asked what he was doing.) Charlie let him be as he was rather fond of the elf. He just seemed so innocent that Charlie couldn't find it in himself to be bothered by his presence.

A knock on the door had Oxy running towards it with the cleaner in his hand, a railroad of dust yawning behind him. Charlie cursed when the elf trampled over his notes. "Missus Hermione," Oxy exclaimed happily after the door had banged against the wall. This caught Charlie's attention. Oxy then pulled out his swimming trunks and let it snap back against him with a resounding _thawp_.

"Oxy? What're you doing here?" she asked.

"Cleaning Master Charlie's room," he answered animatedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Charlie stood and walked up behind Oxy. He folded his arms over his chest as he eyed Hermione. "Can I help you?"

"I was wondering if I could come in for a minute."

"Depends," he seesawed his head. "Any cats behind you waiting to lick their privates on my bed again?" Charlie missed Oxy's anxious glance between him and Hermione.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," she replied.

"You see, I knew it, I – hang on. What did you say?" He was waiting for her to pitch him a sarcastic remark that he was caught off guard.

"Can I come in?" she repeated. "I won't take long."

Perplexed, he stepped aside and stretched out his arm in welcome. Hermione crept in, looking around as she did so. Charlie saw that she was wearing a grey, plaid blouse and a pair of jeans. He contrasted this with a navy t-shirt and black Nike shorts. A strong vanilla flavor followed her. He found it rather intoxicating. Charlie then closed the door behind her.

"Would Master and Missus like Oxy to leave," the elf squeaked.

Hermione looked over at Charlie as he said, "No, you can stay." Oxy beamed as he took back to the wardrobe.

"Preparing for classes," Hermione asked, pointing down to his maelstrom of notes.

"Yeah," he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just going over some things." After a short pause, he decided to add, "I figure I'm a little nervous and all."

"Me too," she agreed. "I just finished changing all of my first-year's examinations, actually. I think I made the questions a bit too difficult."

"Examinations," Charlie repeated incredulously. "Already?"

"You haven't finished yours yet?"

Charlie scoffed. "I haven't even started."

"Oh," was Hermione's response. She seemed to study her shoes.

"How did you get everything done so fast?"

"Ever since I got McGonagall's letter, I've been working on my classes nonstop. I figured I was a witch possessed." Charlie smiled. "But everything's ready to go at least."

"Don't you have seven years' worth of students to contend with?"

"Yeah," she responded.

"Well, congratulations, I guess," he told her.

"I can help you if you want," she shrugged. "If you need anything, just ask."

Charlie cocked his head to the side, assessing her. "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"

She sighed. "Because you had every right to be angry with me earlier." She turned to look at Oxy. He was humming quietly as he fluffed the pillows of the couch. "I purposefully let Crookshanks into your room before."

"How'd you know it was mine?"

In answer, Hermione nodded towards Oxy.

"I know, it was immature of me," she remarked.

"So your offer to help me is some sort of guilty compensation on your part?" Charlie felt insulted. When she didn't answer, he said, "I don't want your charity."

"Fine, then I'm sorry," she replied. "I made a mistake. I shouldn't have ordered Oxy to tell me where your room is and I shouldn't have let Crookshanks in."

"Ordering Oxy around," he reiterated. His brows pulled together. "So much for S.P.E.W. then, huh?" Charlie saw a multitude of conflicting emotions fan across Hermione's face. He found this humorous.

"How did you-,"

"Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," he stated. "I heard you and Percy go at it one night over the summer.

"I'm surprised you listened. If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty bored with the whole thing."

"Yeah because Percy puts me to sleep. I don't know if you've noticed this but Percy isn't the most fascinating bloke to talk to."

Hermione laughed. Charlie found he liked the sound of it.

"Don't tell me you're any better."

"I like to think I'm a little better, at least. This past Sunday Percy spent the entire dinner chatting about twenty-inch cauldrons. I mean, c'mon now," he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Dad unfortunately took the brunt of his fifteen-inch cauldron talk at dessert."

"While it might not seem like it, it's actually a fascinating topic to look at," Hermione said.

"If you're going to go on about ten-inch cauldron sizes, I'm going to ask you to leave." Charlie hoped Hermione understood that he meant this as a joke. After all, they had a good commentary going.

"Maybe I'll save it," she said.

"For what?"

"Christmas dinner," she told him.

Charlie snorted. "You and Percy will have a lot to catch up on, then."

"It could be more than you think. Who knows? Maybe by December the Ministry will think of passing legislation on thirty-inch cauldrons."

An odd feeling crept over him as he grinned over at her: He wanted her to stay. On his own admission, he couldn't believe it. He didn't know what had sparked this sudden intuition and quite frankly, he didn't care. All he knew was that he wanted to keep talking to her. How time made fools of them as just that afternoon, they had participated in a bitter argument.

Charlie stuffed his hands in his shorts as he licked his lips. "Did you um, did you want to sit down or something? Oxy looks like he got the couch alright."

"Actually, uh, I should get back," Hermione replied quietly. She looked uncomfortable. "You know, I want to get a full night's sleep and all."

"Right, right," Charlie nodded. "I should get that too." They stared at each other awkwardly until Charlie said, "Um, see you."

She smiled as she turned around and walked out of his room. She shut the door quietly behind her.

 _Um, see you_ , he repeated in his head. _What the hell was I thinking saying rubbish like that?!_ He then paused and asked himself, _Actually, what the hell was I thinking inviting her to stay over?_ Confusion rifled through him like a plague. Did he and Hermione just share a moment with each other, especially after a summer of storms between them? Charlie frowned at this thought.

With his concentration now bankrupt, Charlie waved his wand, stacking his notes in a neat pile. They floated over to his desk. After guillotining the lights, he pulled off his shirt and kicked down his shorts before sinking onto his bed. He turned onto his side as he replayed his conversation with Hermione in his mind. He found himself smiling as he did so. Charlie, however, failed to notice that Oxy had left his room minutes before.

* * *

 **A/N** : The scene with Trelawney was inspired by the Christmas luncheon in _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ , especially her interaction with McGonagall. If you haven't done so, go back and read it. It's hilarious! Also, please review!


	6. Dragons and Birds, Birds and Dragons

**The Sparrow Suite**

* * *

 **A/N** : Hello everyone! Here is the latest installment to The Sparrow Suite! Thanks for the continued views, reviews, favorites, and follows! Each time a notification appears, my muse perks up and possesses me to stop whatever I'm doing to write - of course, this gets in the way of my actual work but hey, I like this better! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 6: Dragons and Birds, Birds and Dragons

With a towel slung over his shoulder, Charlie pushed open the double-front doors of the castle and stepped out in a cathedral of sunshine. He momentarily had to shield his eyes because it was so bright. A short distance away, the Black Lake glistened. He smiled. The day was an unseasonably warm one, enough to contest the throes of the August heat, though Charlie remedied matters by deciding to take a dip in the water. The sky advertised a clear day free from an ambush of clouds. In fact, when Charlie looked around, he didn't even see any in the nearby vicinity.

Footprints stalked him down to the lake. He rested his hands on his hips when he reached the shore. Directly opposite him, hidden between the trees, the white tomb of Albus Dumbledore slept. Crowns of flowers had been placed atop it. Charlie frowned. He hadn't returned for the famed wizard's funeral. In fact, he had harbored small seeds of resentment towards him as he was ordered to stay in Romania to recruit foreign witches and wizards into the Order of the Phoenix. Charlie though wanted nothing more than to be with his family. However, upon Dumbledore's death those seeds had been scattered, lost somewhere in the wind.

After removing his shoes and socks, Charlie peeled off his shirt where it fell to the ground in a bubble. He then ripped off his jeans and discarded it to the side. He waved his wand and transfigured his boxer shorts into black swimming trunks. Setting his wand down, Charlie toed the water, testing its temperature. He was surprised to find it unusually warm. The Black Lake was typically cold. With skinny rivers of sweat parachuting down his back, Charlie waded into the water.

Moving in even strokes, Charlie avoided the deeper parts of the lake in order to steer clear of Grindylows. He learned from his earlier research that, while uncommon, the vicious little water demons sporadically had a taste for human flesh. It is for this reason that they are classified by the Ministry as dark creatures. Charlie also kept aware of the giant squid that was housed in the lake. He fondly remembered in his first year when Bill introduced him to it. The squid let them tickle its tentacles. At the time, Charlie that it was the coolest thing he'd ever done.

Charlie stilled as he spotted Hogsmeade Station at the far end of the lake. His distance from it made it look like a small pile of blocks a toddler might have stacked after a three-hour nap session. He breathed evenly knowing that come nightfall, he would lead the newest class of first-years across the lake where they would see Hogwarts Castle for the very first time. The thought excited him greatly for he would never forget his initial trip across the Black Lake. He contemplated it was a small miracle in that the boats hadn't ever sunk in the growing excitement and nervousness each first-year carried upon seeing Hogwarts up close and personal.

Suddenly, a petite _splash_ caught his attention.

He whipped his head around and saw small waves crater out from an epicenter. He paused for a moment to see if whatever creature had joined him in the water would emerge. When nothing did, Charlie cautiously stepped forward, his arms skimming the surface of the lake, one foot at a time. His toes curled into the sand at the floor's bottom. He wished he had his wand. Then, abruptly, without warning, Oxy popped his head up. Charlie, not expecting this, jumped back.

"Oxy!" he yelled. The elf had on a diving mask and matching snorkel. His beanie was gone. "What're you doing?" Charlie was breathing heavy.

"Master Charlie," he squeaked. "Oxy is swimming!" He ringed around Charlie to demonstrate.

"On your own?" Charlie felt his jolt of surprise slowly recede, thinking he'd been rather foolish.

"He isn't alone," a voice said to him. Charlie turned his head and saw Hermione. She was gazing over at him with an expression he couldn't read. She was in a striped top and jeans while her hair was tied back in a ponytail.

"How long have you been there for," he asked her. He felt exposed without a shirt on. He sank down to his knees to let the water blanket him.

"Not long," she answered slowly, giving him a queer look at his actions. "Oh, honestly! Don't tell me you feel uncomfortable without a shirt! Did you forget that little stunt you pulled over the summer?"

"What stunt," he retorted though he knew exactly what she was talking about.

She huffed. "Need I remind you that you pulled off your shirt and threw it in my face after you finished de-gnoming the garden?"

Charlie felt the tips of his ears burn as he looked away from her. He didn't know what possessed him to do that, only that whatever it was had since long been exorcised out of him. Oxy paid them no attention for he was swimming around in the water, the tip of his snorkel barely visible.

"Well that was different," he managed.

"How?"

He grew frustrated but forced himself to remain calm.

"It just was," he told her lamely, waving his hand in the air. He then looked over and said, "Don't tell me you're planning on coming in."

"What if I said I was?"

"Then I'd up and leave," he shrugged.

"Without a shirt?"

 _Boy, she's really at it today_ , he thought with a shake of his head. _I guess last night was just a dream to her, then. Being all friendly and that._

"Well, I guess you'd be happy to know that I've already showered," she stated haughtily, her nose in the air.

"And what does that have to do with anything," he clapped back. Suddenly, he visualized Hermione in nothing but a towel. _What in the bloody hell is wrong with me!_ He smacked himself hard in the head. He did it again. _Anything to get rid of that image of Hermione in a towel!_

"What do you think you're doing," she asked.

"What? Oh, um, there was a fly," he replied.

"Have you gone mad?" Hermione looked as if she was about to bring him to St. Mungo's for a checkup. ( _Spell Damage…Fourth Floor!_ )

Charlie felt something bump into the middle of his back. When he turned around, he saw Oxy. He gently pushed the elf's body away from him.

"So just to be clear, you're not going to come in," he posed.

"No," she returned.

Charlie didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed.

"So what did you come down here for?"

"Isn't it obvious? Oxy wanted to go swimming," she pointed.

"I didn't know he needed supervision," he said to her harshly.

"He asked me to come along! Do you have a problem with that?" She tapped her foot on the ground. It made Charlie grit his teeth in agitation.

 _Is she looking for a fight today? Because I have no problem laying it on her!_

"I guess I can't even have an opinion on the matter, can I? I mean, heaven forbid if I actually did have a problem with it! You probably wouldn't even hesitate to Stun me if I said so!"

"And if I'd known you were down here, I would've avoided the Black Lake altogether! For a moment, I forgot how irritating you are! How silly of me!"

"What the hell's wrong with you?!" he shouted. "You know, last night, I thought we'd turn a corner or something! That there was a chance you and I could get on well with each other and not fight all year!" He paused, his shoulders rising and falling roughly. He took a deep breath. More composed, he went on, "I know I haven't been all that nice to you over the summer, I've been a downright asshole at times, but if you think I'm going to interest your juvenile attitude the rest of the term, then you've completely lost the plot."

He then rose to his feet, completely forgetting he was without a shirt, and exited the water. Tousling his short, red hair with the palms of his hands, Charlie made to pick up his wand when Hermione rested a hand on his shoulder. He stilled. He considered shrugging her off but then thought better of it.

"I'm upset," she said quietly. "I have been since yesterday."

Charlie was surprised to hear that she was rather calm as he was anything but. He didn't know whether he wanted to hear her out or not. After all, if it came down to it, her wand was more easily accessible than his.

"What about," he found himself asking. He stared over at her as she looked away from him. He noticed that her hand was still on his shoulder. He was surprised that he didn't quite mind this.

"Ron," was her one-word response.

He sighed. "I figure you want to talk about it?"

"It's an explanation," she told him. "You don't have to listen if you don't want to."

"Let's sit," he suggested. He kicked away his shirt and jeans as they sat on the ground. They faced the Black Lake and Oxy still swimming in it. His snorkel just peeked above the water. "So what's going on," he asked, hugging his knees into his chest.

She was quiet for a minute as she unlaced her shoes and eased them off. She dipped her toes in the water.

"I don't know if you know this but Ron and I aren't together anymore."

"I know," he nodded. When she gave him a confused look, he explained, "Ginny told me." He licked his lips. "She also said that you took it kinda well."

"Did I? That's news to me."

"So you wanted to stay with him?" Charlie found that he was holding his breath.

"No, I didn't," she responded quickly. Charlie let it out. "I just didn't think that it would be so hard to move on. We'd been together for over a year and, I don't know, I guess I got used to it and all."

"Used to what? Being in a relationship?"

She nodded.

"That's an odd way of looking at it," he remarked. "Used to it," he tested again. It sounded funny when he said it. He smiled. "But you're not mad that he wanted to see other people?"

"No," she shook her head. "Ron and I are better off as friends. We should've figured that out sooner than we did."

Charlie looked at her. "I still don't understand what you're upset about, then."

"It's confusing to say but it's like I'm jealous of the fact that Ron will have an easier time moving on than me. Wales is a big place, after all."

"And so is Hogwarts," Charlie countered.

Hermione managed a small grin. However, it soon vanished. "I guess it comes down to the fact that for a quick second, I thought Ron and I were going to last. And I didn't know if I was relieved or worried."

"Now you definitely lost me," Charlie stated. He stretched out his legs in front of him, parallel to Hermione's, as he leaned back and rested on his hands.

"Relieved because I wouldn't have to wonder if there was someone out there for me and worried because even though I like Ron, I never felt intimate with him," she finished quietly. "Whenever we did….snog," she whispered the word, "it just wasn't anything special."

To put it simply, Charlie was floored. Never would he have imagined that Hermione, the witch who broke his nose, made him spill hot tea down his front, and spit out insults, would mirror his current predicament. Like him, she doubted if there was a forever after for her following a previous fling that ran on empty. Because, in Charlie's eyes, Ron and Hermione never did seem all that serious. Their fleeing relationship was like a song in the wind.

"You know that I feel the exact same way," Charlie voiced. He laughed once.

"You haven't found anyone yet," Hermione asked him.

They looked at each other.

"No," he answered.

"Even with all the women you've slept with?"

He scoffed. "What're you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please, don't be so daft. Ginny told me."

"I swear my sister can't keep anything to herself," he muttered. "I'm not sure what she's playing Quidditch for. She'd excel in the _Daily Prophet_ with all of her reporting that she does. She can't keep her mouth shut."

"So you told her you slept with all those women?"

"No, she overhead a few of my conversations with Bill," he said.

"So it's true then?"

Charlie stared over at Hermione, wondering where she was going with her line of questioning. "Yeah, it's true," he responded after a moment. "Why?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. Charlie, however, sensed that Hermione wasn't being completely open with him.

 _What's bothering her_ , he wondered. He scratched the side of his head.

"Did you think you were going to find someone that way? Is that why you did it?" There wasn't any trace of culpability in Hermione's voice but instead more of a curiosity.

"Not really," he replied. He was growing uncomfortable.

"Then why'd you do it?"

"Quite honestly, because it was easy," he said. "I can't speak for all blokes but trust me when I say that most of us like sex. That's just the way we are. And when we're single we like to dip our wands into as many pools as we can. Does that make sense?"

"Dip your wands in as many pools as you can," Hermione repeated incredulously. "Where on earth did you come up with that?"

"Just made it up myself," Charlie shrugged. "Didn't like it?"

"Undetermined but you got your point across," she told him.

"That's not the worst of it," he said.

"Oh?"

"I knew probably half a dozen guys, maybe a little more, that had girls back home, mainly somewhere in Britain. But to them, remaining faithful to their significant others wasn't all that important."

"They cheated," Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Charlie nodded. "And it wasn't just once, it was loads of times. For several, it was multiple times a week. Meanwhile, back home, their wives, girlfriends, fiancés, whatever, they had no idea what was going on. One guy had it really bad, though. His girl paid him a surprise visit on the reserve one weekend only to find him in bed with two other women."

Hermione gasped. "What happened after?"

"The bloke, I forgot his name, moved back home and tried to fix what he messed up."

"Did he?"

"Dunno," Charlie answered. "I was never close to him and could care less if he ever did. But that's how it was on the reserve and I'd wager it's the same in other countries as well. Dragons and birds, birds and dragons. It makes sense if you think about it: All these young guys feed off the energy of their work but they also need some time to themselves. And a popular option is to bed a girl you'll probably never see again."

"That's how you were?"

"For a while," he said. "I kinda got out of the habit when the war started back up but I would always slip some time or another." He paused as his gaze skirted the lake again. "I'd always figured that at the right moment, I would find the girl I was meant to be with and all. I was pretty stupid," he laughed. "I didn't even make an effort. I thought she'd apparate right in front of me." Charlie looked back over at Hermione. "Or maybe I was bit scared."

"Scared? How?"

"If I happened to find the right girl, she'd probably want me to leave the reserve. You know, to live life domestically, buy a house, pop out a few kids, Sunday brunch with her mum and dad. She'd want me to take on a life I'd never considered living."

"Then that wouldn't be the right girl for you," Hermione decided. "What I learned from my parents is that relationships are all about compromise. That's where Ron and I failed. I wished for him to be something he didn't want to be and in turn, he was playing to the expectations of everyone around us without thinking about what we, ourselves, really wanted."

"Was Ron your first relationship," Charlie asked her.

"My first real one," she nodded.

"Then I wouldn't worry too much about it. Don't take this the wrong way or anything but you're inexperienced. You're twenty, right?"

"Soon," she replied. "On September nineteenth." She looked over at him. "Not to say anything but aren't you inexperienced as well?"

He barked out a laugh. "When it comes to relationships, yeah," he agreed. "But I'm a bit older than you. I'm-,"

"Twenty-seven but you'll be twenty-eight in December," she cut across.

Charlie felt his eyes bulge. "And how did you know that?" Before she could answer, he said, "Wait, wait, wait! Ginny?" Hermione nodded. "How did I know that?" he asked himself though loud enough for Hermione to hear. "I mean, how did I actually know that?" Hermione started laughing as she covered her mouth. Seeing her, Charlie also laughed.

"Anyway, my mum's been going mental over the fact that I'm not with anyone right now," he commented. _"Twenty-eight is just far too old of an age to meet someone!"_ he imitated in his mother's voice. _"And really dear, who knows if that will even work out? Do you really want to still be looking for someone when you're thirty?"_ He sighed.

"Do you practice that in front of a mirror before you go to bed at night," Hermione asked him.

Charlie grinned. He said, "She's a nightmare, she really is."

"What does your dad say?"

"Nothing," he snorted. "He's more laid-back about the whole thing. I mean, yeah, he wants us to all marry off and give him some grandchildren and whatever but he's more patient about it. He's willing to let us do things on our own without any interference."

"You know, I never would've said this to you before and I can't believe that I'm saying it to you now but I think you'll find someone."

"Yeah?" When Hermione nodded in confirmation, he asked her, "Been crystal gazing with Trelawney, have you?"

She scoffed loudly. "As if! What a load of rubbish!"

"How many years of Divination did you take?"

"Not even one," she answered. Seeing puzzlement piecing his eyes, she went on, "I walked out one class and never came back."

"Hang on," Charlie backtracked, holding up both of his hands in front of him. "Are you telling me that Hermione Granger has a rebellious streak?"

Hermione fixed a smile on her face, leaned in close to him, and said, "You have no idea."

* * *

After Charlie literally pulled Oxy from the Black Lake, for the poor elf didn't want to leave it, he put on his clothes and the trio made their way back to the castle. Seeing Hermione carry the diving mask and matching snorkel, Charlie asked, "Was that your idea or his?"

"His," she answered, holding up the items in question. "He wanted to see the bottom."

"Why? There's nothing there except sand. Right?"

"Maybe where you two were but there's a whole village of Merpeople in deeper waters."

"And he wanted to see them?"

Hermione shrugged. "You can ask him yourself. He's right next to you, after all."

Charlie looked to his side and saw Oxy pulling out his swimming trunks and letting them smack back into his middle with soft _thawps._ The elf, for one reason or another, seemed hypnotized by this.

"I think I'll leave him be."

Hermione looked over at Oxy, smiling softly.

Speaking quietly, Charlie asked, "Do you know of that house-elf who took Oxy's robe from him?"

"Didn't you call him Berry," Hermione replied. When Charlie nodded, she said, "No, I never heard of him before. The first time I did was when you told McGonagall about him."

"Oxy didn't say anything to you?"

"No," she shook her head. "But I can't say that I pressed him for information."

"Why's that?"

She paused for a moment and then responded, "I've met house-elves before and some of them are a bit…funny. I just assumed Oxy was kind of the same. You know, funny in his own way." She then frowned. "But if Berry really did take Oxy's robe from him, I can't imagine what he's like."

"I think we should get it back," Charlie stated determinedly.

"Classes haven't even started yet and you're already scheming," she observed.

"Call it what you want but this doesn't have anything to do with classes," he responded. Charlie looked over at the elf again. "I like him, you know? Oxy, I mean. He's just so…so different. He isn't like anyone I ever met before."

"I'm quite fond of him too," Hermione agreed. "I mean, McGonagall said she'll look into the matter but I don't see the harm in trying to do things ourselves. We'll probably have to wait, though, as I'm sure the elves are getting ready for tonight's opening feast."

Charlie's stomach rumbled loudly at her words.

"You're not hungry, are you," she grinned.

"Maybe a bit," he toyed. "You don't think we're having another staff lunch, do you?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied. "Why?"

"Trelawney's little spectacle yesterday kinda killed my appetite," he told her.

"Count it a small miracle she even made it to dessert."

Charlie laughed loudly.

Just as they reached the front doors of the castle, Neville burst out of them. In order to avoid being bowled over, Oxy hopped between Charlie's legs, causing him to lose his balance and collide into Hermione. They both crashed on the ground.

"Damn it, Oxy!" Charlie roared.

Hermione yelled, "Neville! Is everything alright? Where are you going?"

"Fine!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Just left a bit of Venomous Tentacula next to some Devil's Snare! Have to get to 'em or the greenhouse will be left in ruins!"

"Do you need any help," Hermione asked his retreating back.

"I'll be okay!" He then drew his wand and disappeared around a corner.

Charlie then realized he and Hermione were still on the ground, their legs tangled together. He considered it a blessing he hadn't landed on top of her for a sudden erection was pressing against the front of his jeans.

 _What am I, a bloody teenager?_ he asked himself.

"Sorry," he said to her. "I tripped over."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione replied, standing to her feet. Charlie gulped when she wiped her buttocks free from the blades of grass that had pledged their allegiance to her. They rained down on his jeans. Oxy had already disappeared inside. "Aren't you going to get up," she posed. Charlie was still on the ground.

"In a minute," was his answer.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, just got the wind knocked outta me," he said. In actuality, he was waiting for his hardness to abate. It was positively uncomfortable in a pair of jeans. "You don't have to wait if you don't want to," he said up to her.

"No, I don't mind," she said. "Unless you want to be alone?"

Charlie started laughing. He tried to hold it in, he really did, but the whole situation was so comedic that he was unable to.

"What is it? What's so funny?" Hermione was looking down at him with a grin of her own.

"I wish I could explain it to you but I can't. It's just one of those things that's funny for absolutely no reason at all that you have to laugh. Get what I mean?"

"A bit," she tested.

Feeling himself slowly deflate, Charlie stood to his feet, brushing himself off as he did so. There were green comets of grass stains all over his shirt.

"Better," she asked.

"Much," he nodded.

They walked into the castle and by the Great Hall where they saw that the four house tables had been set in place. Goblets stood like soldiers next to each plate while a wide assortment of weapons in the form of eating utensils was situated nearby. Other than the immobile war that was currently being waged by the cutlery, the rest of the hall was empty.

"Ah, Miss Granger," a voice said from behind them. Charlie looked over and saw Professor Slughorn emerging from a staircase that led down to the kitchens.

"Horace," Hermione greeted. Charlie thought she sounded rather forced.

"I've been looking for you all morning," he smiled, walking over to them. When he saw Charlie, he nodded, "Cherry, have a good morning?"

"Cherry? No, my name's-,"

"As I was saying," he interrupted, "I've been meaning to put back together my Slug Club for the coming year. I'm sure you remember that I only invite students to my little gatherings but I'm planning on throwing a lavish Christmas party before the holiday. You would be interested in attending, correct?"

"Of course, sir," she answered. "But don't you think it's a bit early to take a roll call? December is still months away."

"Oh, not at all, not at all," he chuckled. His belly shook up and down. "As it is, I know you have many gifts, Miss Granger. And I'm hoping you can make yourself useful for the time being."

"Sir?"

"Try to persuade Mr. Potter into joining us for our holiday jubilee. If my mind serves me correctly, the boy conveniently missed most of my meetings during the year when he was at school."

"Well, Harry's a bit busy right now. He's just started Auror training," Hermione responded.

"Auror training," Slughorn repeated. "Oh, not a problem at all! I know the higher-ups in the division! I'll tell them to clear his schedule!" Charlie saw Hermione ball her hands into fists at her sides. "Oh, and before I forget, Minerva asked me to tell you that that little elf of yours, Toxic, will provide you with your lunch." As he took to the stairs, he called over his shoulder, "Do visit when you get the chance, Miss Granger!" He then eyed Charlie and said, "Good to see you too, Chubby!"

"Who in the hell does he think he's calling chubby," Charlie asked acidly when Slughorn had disappeared. "I mean, he's like quadruple the size of me!"

"Come on, let's go," Hermione said as she led the way to the staffroom.

As Charlie fell into step beside her, he asked, "What's this Slug Club he was going on about?"

"They're usually dinners held in Slughorn's office with some handpicked students of his," Hermione answered.

"Handpicked students? What does that mean?"

"Pretty much those with family members who have some sort of prominence in the Ministry. He also likes those that show some sort of prodigious skill."

"So he was impressed by you, I take it?"

Hermione nodded. "I made the mistake of answering all of his questions in Potions back in sixth-year."

"Oh, come on. Being a Sluggy can't be all bad," Charlie probed with an evil-looking grin.

"Sluggy? Please don't tell me you're going to add that to your already limited vocabulary," she tossed back.

"Why not? I have to say I'm a bit offended he didn't remember my name. I mean, is it really that hard?"

"You know, Ron didn't like him either. But that was more due to the fact that he never received an invite. Ginny did, though."

"Really?" Charlie looked over at her.

"Slughorn saw her perform a Bat-Bogey hex on Zacharias Smith," Hermione said as they reached the gargoyles standing guard outside the staffroom. "Ice mice," she said to them. The door swung open and they stepped inside.

"Yeah, that is a specialty of hers," Charlie recalled, his gaze lost in space. "I wondered where she learned how to cast it."

"Bill," Hermione responded.

Charlie snorted. "I should've known."

Oxy then came barreling down the hall, much like Neville some minutes before, and asked breathlessly, "Is Master and Missus ready to eat?" His purple beanie was fixated atop his head.

"Yeah, nice of you to trip us up before," Charlie nodded.

"Oh, forgive Oxy, forgive him, Master!" the elf cried as he collapsed onto the carpeted floor. "Oxy will punish himself, Master Charlie, oh Oxy will!" The elf turned his head to the left and right and squeaked, "Start a fire, Master Charlie, and Oxy will cast himself into it! Please, Master Charlie, start a fire!"

"No! No, no," Hermione interrupted quickly, sinking to her knees. She rubbed the elf's back soothingly. "Oxy, you don't have to do that."

"No, Missus Hermione, Oxy must punish himself! Oxy must!"

"Listen," she said, "it was an accident. And you didn't hurt Charlie, did he?" She shot him a look of brutality over her shoulder as if she dared him to disagree.

"'Course not," he heard himself say. "I just fell over. You know, no harm, no foul and all that. It'll take a lot more than-,"

"The point being," Hermione cut across, "is that you don't have to punish yourself. In fact, that's an order." She turned serious. "Oxy, you are never to punish yourself. Is that clear?" She sounded mildly stern.

The elf looked up at her, his eyes rimmed red while bogey bubbles ballooned then popped out of existence. He sniffled. "Yes, Missus Hermione, Oxy understands," he replied softly.

"Good," she nodded as she helped him to his feet.

He took off his beanie and wiped his nose with it. "Can Oxy get Master and Missus anything to eat," he asked again, squeezing the beanie in his hands. His eyes were trained on the floor.

Charlie squatted down, gently placed a hand on the elf's shoulder and said, "How about you get us the best chicken and ham sandwiches the kitchen has to offer."

Oxy's eyes grew wide. "Yes, Master Charlie, yes! Oxy can do that! Yes, Oxy can!" He disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

After he left, Charlie turned to Hermione and said, "That's two orders now in two days from you. Is it safe to say S.P.E.W. has been dissolved?"

She huffed as she took down the hall and entered her room. Just as Charlie began to wonder if they were to take their lunches separately, Hermione reappeared, carrying a stack of parchment in her hands.

"What's that," he asked.

"Examinations for sixth-years," she replied, taking a seat at a nearby table. "I still have to revise these and the seventh-years'."

"Need any help?" He took the seat across from her.

"I think I'll be fine," she replied. "I'm just making the questions a bit easier. I'll make the necessary changes to the first test and then charm the rest of follow suit. It's quite simple, really."

Before she got to work, Oxy reappeared when a large, circular tray piled high with sandwiches. When he set it on the table, they towered past Charlie and Hermione's heads.

"Oxy," Hermione commented, "you didn't have to go through all this trouble!"

"Oh, no trouble for Oxy! No trouble at all!" He stepped back and smiled up at them. "Can Oxy get anything else for Master and Missus?"

"How about Neville," Charlie suggested.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot about him!" Hermione smacked herself in the forehead at her hiccup. "Oxy, can you go to the greenhouses and check on Neville? He might want something."

"Yes, Missus, right away, Missus!" He vanished in thin air.

As Charlie took to the sandwiches, he heard Hermione mutter things like, _"Far too difficult!"_ and _"Honestly, what was I thinking?!"_

He found himself smiling as he watched her: Her eyes were rocketing around the parchment before her so fast that her pupils were mere blurs. Her brows were squished together while she silently mouthed each question. Every so often, she would blow away a stray strand of hair that had invaded her line of sight. Her quill scratched rather nosily when she crossed out an entire question, killing its existence from her exam. And she would still find the time to nibble on her own sandwich before setting it down and continuing to purge her document of any erroneous errors.

Oxy reappeared some time later humming to himself with his duster in his hand. He took to cleaning the staffroom and nearly attacked the painting of Tiby Tubbers when he made a slight at Charlie. ( _That nasty shade of hair could scare a baby out of the womb!_ )

* * *

Although the night cast a shadow over Hogsmeade Station, Charlie spotted the Hogwarts Express in the distance turning the final bend like a scarlet serpent. He felt a bit nervous. For a fleeting second, he wished Hermione was here with him.

 _Wait a sec…what? What the hell's the matter with me?_ He didn't think he'd ever been more confused in his life than he was these past two days.

While the air was warm, bombs of gooseflesh detonated over his arms as he watched the train pull closer. He absentmindedly rubbed his hands together as if he were cold before linking his fingers together and bending them away from him. Numerous _cracks_ sung loudly.

 _Might as well get this over with_ , he told himself. He waved his wand. A lantern next to him instantly fired to life. The train then pulled into the station.

* * *

 **A/N** : Sorry if the ending feels rather abrupt. My initial plans for this chapter morphed into Chapter 7. Please feel free to leave a short (or long) review with your thoughts on my story so far!


	7. A Run on the Mill

**The Sparrow Suite**

* * *

 **A/N** : Hello everyone! Here is the next installment of The Sparrow Suite. This is coming out a day later than I had anticipated as I deleted an entire scene that will now take place in Chapter 8. Thanks for the continued support in the form of views, reviews, favorites, and follows! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 7: A Run on the Mill

Carriage doors were flung open as students in long, black robes flooded the platform. Their cacophony of voices sounded like a primeval war cry. Charlie was taken aback by the sudden onslaught of noise of Hogsmeade Station as it had been a quiescent fortress just seconds before.

Standing atop a nearby bench, he cupped his hands and bellowed, "FIRST YEARS! FIRST YEARS OVER HERE! FIRST YEARS!"

A large gaggle of students inched over to him, their faces as pale as a gang of ghosts. Charlie wondered if he ought to conjure a bucket for these kids to vomit into because a dozen looked to be on the verge of doing so.

As the platform began to clear, Charlie was left with the first-years. A clearly defined space separated him from them as though they were afraid he was apt to bite.

"All here," he asked nobody in particular. The group was silent. "Right, then," he said. "Mind your step and follow me."

Charlie, with his lantern floating next to him, led the first-years under a low arch cut into the back wall of the station. They then took down a near-vertical path, it thinned by walls of trees on either side. It was so quiet that Charlie could hear his own breaths. He figured they were as anxious as life allowed them to be. He smiled.

Turning a sharp corner, the silence was suddenly shattered as Hogwarts Castle came into view.

 _"Will you look at that!"_

 _"But it's so big!"_

 _"I knew Craig was lying about a Horntail guarding the school!"_

Charlie scoffed at this last statement. He let the first-years admire the castle from afar, the night promoting its exquisite opulence. There was nothing quite like seeing Hogwarts for the first time for he distinctly remembered when he had laid eyes on the citadel.

It had been a cold night, so much so that he and his peers huddled together to benefit from human body warmth. However, the frigid air was soon forgotten when they all saw Hogwarts. Drunk on excitement, one boy fell into the water while another girl's hair exploded in a fireworks' show of color. (He later learned she was a Metamorphmagus.)

"Well, let's get going or we'll be late to the Sorting," Charlie said, leading the group to the shore of the Black Lake. "Everyone grab a boat," he called back to them, nodding to the awaiting navy. "And no more than four in each one," he added hastily for eight students clogged one vessel which dangerously rocked side to side, almost depositing everyone in it.

Charlie hoarded one for himself. "Everyone seated," he asked. He again received no reply. _Man, Hermione's going to have her hands full with this lot_ , he said to himself. Assuming everyone was in, he tapped the side of the boat with his wand. The armada then began their trek across the lake, small waves rippling across the water.

Yellow cubes of light from the windows of the approaching castle swam before them while a chest of diamonds was dispensed overhead. The night air was as warm as the day had been though they soon sailed into chilly avenues of wind. Charlie looked back at the first-years behind him and saw that they were masquerading masks of awe. The voyage across the Black Lake was a spectacle all on its own as Charlie eyed the many towers that thundered into the dark sky.

"Mind your heads," he yelled over his shoulder as they advanced upon a thick rainfall of ivy. Past it, they sailed into a gap in the cliff face, channeling through a tunnel. Charlie's lantern, which bobbed a little before him, domed the inside. After stopping next to a makeshift dock, Charlie and the first-years climbed back onto the shore. He led them up a passageway in the rock before they came onto the front lawn of the castle.

Hearing a bout of panting and wheezing behind him, Charlie turned and saw a large, round boy with his hands on his knees, his cheeks a strawberry red.

"You alright," he asked.

The round boy nodded wordlessly.

Shrugging his shoulders, Charlie pushed open the front doors and stepped into the Entrance Hall, the first-years lagging at his heels. And as coordinated some hours previous, Hermione waited just inside. However, when Charlie saw her, he stopped short. Several students ran into him and slumped back into their classmates. They fell over like a stack of dominos. Charlie didn't pay any attention to this for Hermione, in his opinion, looked so Muggle. It caught him off guard. Dressed in a white polo and blue skinny jeans, Charlie broke out into a wide grin at the sight of her.

Momentarily forgetting his duties, he walked up to her and said quietly, "Didn't feel the need to dress up?"

"I'll explain later," she whispered before side-stepping him to address the first-years. Half a dozen of them were still picking themselves up off the floor.

Charlie thought she looked rather nervous.

"Well, I'm going to leave you in the hands of Her – I mean, Professor Granger," Charlie commented, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. He then took off down a skinny corridor, once looking back at Hermione. She was giving the speech she had recited for Charlie hours earlier.

He, however, was still floored at her outfit. Yes, he supposed he wasn't dressed properly for the Start-of-Term Feaster either (his navy golf polo his dad had gotten him for a past birthday was tucked into a pair of black slacks) but he definitely assumed Hermione would be more formal about it. He then grew suspicious if something had happened to her as he saw that she had laid dress robes out before he had departed for Hogsmeade Station. Sighing, he gently pushed through a heavy door and into the Great Hall.

A dull roar of voices greeted him as he came up behind the staff table. No one besides Neville paid him any attention.

"Over there," he pointed to Charlie. Next to Flitwick, an empty chair rested.

Charlie nodded his gratitude and took his seat.

He looked down at the four house tables. The changed perspective looped him. For years he was used to looking up at the staff table that headed the hall, never once thinking he'd ever have a spot there. And quite frankly, he didn't really want one. He had entertained the idea of becoming a professor at one time but that lasted for no more than a day before he decided the idea was mad.

 _Now look at me_ , he thought.

Suddenly, the double doors to the Great Hall swept open, revealing Hermione costuming her Muggle outfit and the first-years Charlie had passed over to her. The Sorting Hat rested on top of a stool as both floated before the procession. Thousands of lit candles shown down on them like spotlights. And though it was custom to stare at the line of first-years entering the hall, the attention was instead diverted onto Hermione. Whether it was because she was a famed witch credited with the fact that she had a stake in Voldemort's downfall or because of her irregular clothing, Charlie didn't know.

As the Sorting progressed, Charlie only had eyes for Hermione much like everyone else in the hall. She grasped a long roll of parchment in her hands, calling each name up to the stool. One boy tripped on his over-long robes and knocked the Sorting Hat from its perch while another girl face-planted as she skipped her way over to the Hufflepuff table. Next to him, Flitwick had apparently dozed off, snoring softly.

After Hermione had taken away the hat and stool, McGonagall stood to her feet, smiled gently, and said, "Shall we tuck in?"

As numerous foods suddenly flooded the house and staff tables, the first-years gasped while the older students cheered in delight. Flitwick instantly awoke and started talking to Charlie as if they had been carrying on an important conversation all the while. He answered the Charms professor when he could while plating a large spoonful of lamb chops, boiled potatoes, peas, and carrots. On McGonagall's other side, he spotted Hermione and Neville chatting together. A thick jealousy sprouted inside him as he wondered if these seating arrangements were in any way biased.

 _Of course they aren't!_ he mentally scolded. _Why on earth would they be? And why should I care?_ ( _I think you have a soft spot for her somewhere inside of you_ , came Bill's voice.)

He groaned aloud.

"Did you say something," Flitwick asked him.

"What? Oh, no, it was nothing," he shook his head.

Dessert passed by quickly as Charlie helped himself to mint chocolate chip ice cream and chocolate éclairs. He licked his lips when he had finished.

Soon after, McGonagall got back on her feet and addressed the students with school announcements Charlie had heard many times from Dumbledore. However, he perked up when she said, "And we also have three new staffing changes this year."

Charlie was announced first to gentle applause. Neville was next as his was noticeably louder than Charlie's. McGonagall wasn't even given the chance to say Hermione's last name for the Great Hall exploded with cheers. The students stood to their feet. Charlie was surprised when more than half of the Slytherin table followed suit. After everyone had settled down, which had taken a while to do, McGonagall dismissed them to bed, telling them to get in a good night's sleep for classes the following morning.

As Prefects led the first-years out of the Great Hall and the professors departed, McGonagall called over to Charlie, Hermione, and Neville. She wore a stern expression.

"While I'll reserve judgment regarding any partiality I may have possessed in staff hires this year, what is the meaning of these foolish gimmicks you three deemed appropriate to wear to the Start-of-Term feast?"

While Charlie and Hermione could pass on any Muggle street without a backwards glance, Neville was in an ugly, brown coat one would normally associate with the greenhouses. Dirt and grime patched his face while broken twigs jutted out of his hair.

"Ran out of time to change," Neville mumbled, his chin tucked into his chest.

McGonagall turned to Charlie and Hermione for their explanations. It was then that Charlie realized he didn't have one.

"Minerva," Hermione began, "given the usual age discrepancy between the Hogwarts' staff and students, I had a thought that Muggle clothing might make the younger students, especially Muggle-Borns, more comfortable with the fact that they are away from home. And probably for most of them, this is their first time. Appearances are important but so are first-impressions." She paused and sighed. "I saw it on their faces: These first-years, they're nervous. And though I understand that it's the first night and all and they're apt to be a little anxious, I wanted them to feel welcomed. That if they had any problems they couldn't solve on their own they could come to one of us without hesitation," she gestured at herself, Charlie, and Neville. "Of course, our ages help matters being that we're younger than most of the staff," she said quietly as if this would offend the headmistress, "but it's also important to promote this type of open environment."

McGonagall was silent when Hermione finished, seeming to carefully regard her words. Neville's mouth had dropped in shock while Charlie looked over at Hermione in a light he had never seen her in before. Clearly, she accounted for the students much more than he had had and he wagered Neville as well.

"Well, that is very noble of you, Miss Granger," McGonagall commended. "But do remind yourself that there is always to be a clear and distinct separation between the staff and students. We are here to teach them how to control their magic and they are here to learn. Blurring any lines beyond that point puts both staff and students in jeopardy."

"I understand," Hermione nodded.

McGonagall clasped her hands before her and nodded. "I did choose you three for a reason. Maybe this was it." She readjusted her spectacles and continued, "Now, your class attendance sheets can be found in your rooms. And do make an effort to be on time tomorrow." She looked pointedly at Charlie. "Now, off you go."

Charlie, Hermione, and Neville walked the length of the Great Hall in silence. Charlie thought it took them an inordinate amount of time to reach the doors. Once they did, they made a right. Neville said to the stone gargoyles, "Ice mice." The staffroom opened for them.

Once inside, Charlie immediately spotted Oxy furiously dusting the portrait of Tiby Tubbers, causing the former Herbology professor-turned-healer to undergo a sneezing attack.

"I will not stand for these unprovoked attacks, elf," Tiby spat out.

"You's should not insult Master Charlie," Oxy fired back.

"An ill-mannered, vulgar, diseased young boy, you mean!"

Hermione looked over at Charlie in question but he rolled his eyes and shook his head, sighing.

Charlie patted Oxy's head as he passed by him. He then took to his room but paused with surprise in the doorway: Half a dozen baby dragons were flying around inside. However, these baby dragons bore not a coat of scales but instead were made of thick, colored parchment paper.

"What the-," Charlie began as he spotted a baby dragon tear off a corner of one of his pillows. Feathers bulleted the air. Another was chewing on the curtain in front of the window while a third repeatedly flew headfirst into the mirror.

"Can Oxy get Master anything?"

Charlie turned and saw Oxy staring up at him expectantly. The door behind the elf then opened and Hermione stepped out of it, cradling a large family of parchment otters.

"Aren't these adorable," she asked as the otters nuzzled the tops of their heads into the crooks of her neck.

Suddenly, a tortoiseshell cat, also made of parchment, pounced atop of Oxy. It then scrambled out of sight as the blurry form of Neville raced after it.

"What are these," Charlie asked, indicating the baby dragons behind him.

"Didn't you hear McGonagall?" Hermione hugged her otters closer to her. "These are our class lists."

"Wait, how many kids are we teaching exactly?" He considered the sizes of the baby dragons in his room.

"They're separated based on year," Hermione explained smartly. "So, one of your dragons will be third-years, another will be fourth-years, and so on."

Charlie nodded at her in understanding before he said, "You know, I never considered animating parchment like this. It's pretty neat." One of the baby dragons flew over to him and cuddled against his chest. Charlie smiled. "Are you going to turn in early?"

"I think so," Hermione answered. She released her parchment otters as they coiled around her. They then flew back into her room.

"You seem well acquainted," Charlie noted.

"I'm a big fan of parchment," she shrugged.

Charlie grinned.

"But maybe after a cup of tea and I'll-,"

"Would Missus like some tea," Oxy squeaked up at her. He was righting his beanie after it was capsized by Neville's tortoiseshell cat.

"I would, Oxy," she said down to him. The elf disappeared. She turned to Charlie and asked, "And how about you? Are you going to try and get a full night's sleep for classes tomorrow?"

"Probably," he answered. The two stared at each other from across the hall. He saw that Hermione was wearing some light makeup but nothing that veiled her natural state. Her eyes were warm, her lips looked soft, and her hair had been smoothed over. Charlie licked his own lips.

"Well, I'll let you get to bed," Charlie heard himself say. For one reason or another, his mind was foggy though his mouth seemed to have a motor of its own. "I might look over some of these lists and all."

"Okay," she nodded gently. "Goodnight, Charlie."

"'Night," he responded.

She stepped back into her room, and giving him one last fleeting look, she shut her door.

* * *

Charlie couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, rolled onto his left and right sides, rested his head on one pillow then two, and couldn't decide if he wanted the duvet or not. He groaned in frustration, the darkness around him still and silent. He sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. Disposing his bed sheets on the floor, Charlie pulled on a pair of black shorts and a white t-shirt. He then exited his room and walked down the corridor towards the staffroom. He was surprised to find Neville seated at one of the tables, his attendance sheets before him.

"Charlie," he asked when he saw him. "What're you doing up?"

"Could ask you the same thing," he replied, taking the chair across from Neville.

"Just going over this again," he shrugged.

"What for?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "Can't sleep, I guess."

"What time is it," Charlie posed as he squinted towards the clock hanging above the fireplace. "Two in the morning?" he groaned. "Damn it."

"And what's keeping you awake," Neville asked, eyeing him. "Nervous about teaching?"

"More or less so," Charlie answered, leaning against the back of his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean, I never done it before. Have you?"

"No," he shook his head. "But I'm kind of excited about it."

"Yeah?"

Neville nodded but didn't explain why.

Crookshanks, who Charlie hadn't seen when he entered before, jumped into Charlie's lap and pawed his chest. He frowned and scratched behind his ears. Quite honestly, Charlie hadn't completely forgiven the cat for licking his privates on his bed. Crookshanks closed his eyes and relished Charlie's touch.

"You two seem to get on quite well with each other," Neville commented.

"Yeah, he's alright." Crookshanks curled into a fluffy ball in Charlie's lap.

"So you're the Weasley brother who works with dragons, right?" Neville eyed him curiously. When Charlie nodded, he asked, "Why the change in careers?"

"Well, I didn't," Charlie offered. "The Romanian Dragon Reserve is relocating to Northumberland. But it hasn't been all that easy. I mean, not many of us expected it to be. Anyway, the opening's been delayed until next June."

"So they just gave you almost the entire year off?"

"Pretty much," Charlie confirmed. "There's a lot of workers to see the transition through. And besides, I requested additional time with my family."

Neville stacked his attendance sheets together as he said, "And what made you accept the Care of Magical Creatures position?"

"Something to do to pass the time," Charlie answered simply. "My options were a bit limited, you know? It was either sitting at home doing absolutely nothing or applying to some places in Diagon Alley. It wasn't a hard choice to make." _That's if you subtract me and Hermione's series of battles we waged against each other_ , he mentally added. "What about you?"

"I don't know," he mused though more to himself. "Herbology's kind of been the only thing I've ever really been good at. I tried Auror training for a bit but didn't like it very much. I considered working for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the front counter or something like that, when McGonagall sent me the offer." He chuckled quietly. "Gran doubted I'd ever amount to much. Not sure what she would say now."

"You can tell her it's pretty honorable teaching at Hogwarts," Charlie offered.

"Can't," Neville responded. "She died a couple of months ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Neville waved his hand. "It was her time, that's all."

The two fell into an uncomfortable silence as Crookshanks stretched in Charlie's lap. He fiddled around in a small circle then globed his body into another ball. Charlie yawned widely after which he shook his head slightly. He hated to feel tired but was unable to fall asleep.

"What do you think about what Hermione said to McGonagall," Neville asked him.

Charlie thought about this for a moment and responded, "Seems like she put a lot of thought into it. It kinda took me for a spin."

"She tends to have that type of effect on everyone," Neville smirked. "I just can't believe she's a professor."

"Why's that?"

"I thought she would try for something in the Ministry, like somewhere in Magical Law Enforcement. There was a running bet among some of us in the DA on if she'll become the youngest Minister of Magic. There's still time for that, I guess."

"The DA," Charlie repeated. "What's that?"

"Ron and Ginny never mentioned it to you?"

Charlie racked his head but couldn't recall those two letters. "Not that I can remember."

"It stands for Dumbledore's Army. Hermione thought of the idea in fifth-year when the Ministry interfered at Hogwarts. It was a kind of gathering in the Room of Requirement on the seventh-floor where Harry would teach us spells we should've been learning in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Smart too since we found ourselves fighting a war a couple of years later."

"Hermione thought of that," Charlie asked.

Neville nodded.

Charlie was impressed.

"If it wasn't for her, Dumbledore's Army never would've existed." He smiled as if lamenting on a long ago memory.

"D'you like her," Charlie blurted out.

Neville looked over at him in a way that made Charlie uncomfortable.

"Why do you ask?"

"It seems like you do," Charlie shrugged and swallowed.

"Maybe I did for a bit," Neville pouted. "But that was like in first-year. It doesn't matter anyway. You probably know this but Ron and her are together."

"Not anymore," Charlie told him. "They broke up last week."

"Blimey!" Neville exclaimed. "Did they really?"

"What's it to you? I thought you didn't like her?" Small threads of envy spun together in the pit of Charlie's stomach. He glared over at Neville even though he didn't mean to. His chest felt tight as his hands curled into fists. He didn't have his wand with him but there were other means of marking his territory.

 _My territory?_ he asked. _Whoa. Be sure to never mention anything like that to Hermione or she'll make sure my residency in St. Mungo's is permanent._

"Well, it isn't anything romantic," Neville assured. "We've been friends for a long time, that's all." He then shook his head. "I guess it isn't all that surprising, Ron and Hermione. They fought way too often. Got a bit annoying, actually." He then paused and gazed across the table at Charlie. "Wait a minute," he said slowly. "Do you have feelings for Hermione?"

Charlie felt trapped like a rat in a maze. He tried to laugh off Neville's question but he figured it sounded more like a hiccup.

"Definitely not," he replied. "I mean, forget the fact that she and I got off on the wrong foot, but to date my younger brother's ex? That calls for a full-blown slugfest."

"I didn't say date," Neville countered. "All I asked was if you had feelings for her."

"No," Charlie answered a bit too quickly.

"You sure about that?"

 _Has the world gone mad? First Bill, then mum and Ginny, and now Neville? I just met him a day ago!_

"Listen, I don't know enough about Hermione to like her in the way you're suggesting and I certainly never felt anything between us. In fact, we just started getting along earlier today."

"What? You two disliked each other before you came to Hogwarts?"

"Pretty much," Charlie nodded.

"So, what changed then?"

Charlie stopped and thought about this. What had changed between them? He knew that ever since their conversation on the shores of the Black Lake, Hermione had been much nicer to him. Of course, her pleasantries were still in its early stages and for all he knew, come morning, Hermione could decide to abort her kindness and replace it with animosity.

But maybe it was the fact that she and Charlie were more alike than they were different. After all, she was worried that there wasn't anybody for her, someone she could be intimate with, which was what troubled Charlie as well. He wagered that she also wrestled against inner demons that were born in the aftermath of the war as he struggled with his own too. Perhaps that was it.

 _What if the only reason Hermione and I didn't get along before was because we were both suffocated by our own troubles, unable to overcome them when it seemed like everyone else around us did? Was that it? Was that the source of our initial dislike of one another?_

"It's too late to talk about this," Charlie shook his head. "I can't even see straight right now."

"Maybe a cup of tea will help?" Neville suggested.

Charlie smiled.

"Tempting but we do have classes to teach in the morning. You didn't forget that, did you?"

"Of course not," he replied. As Charlie made to get up, prompting Crookshanks to jump off his lap, Neville added, "Maybe you ought to know that you're on Hermione's mind a lot." Charlie paused midway out of his chair. "She mentioned it at dinner," he finished, almost as an afterthought.

* * *

Charlie's first day of classes passed by in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it scenario. He explained class procedures and safety, along with expectations when it came time to practicality and common sense in dealing with various magical creatures. His third-years were the most eager to get started though all of his students showed enthusiasm when he briefly listed what creatures they would be studying throughout the year. He grew uncomfortable, however, when he intercepted a piece of parchment that was passed between two Gryffindor fourth-years with his initials in a heart.

At many times throughout the day, his mind wandered over to Hermione and wondered how her first day of classes was going. He made a mental note to later ask her if she was able to withdraw ten words from the introverted first-years.

* * *

Later that night, Charlie was extremely bewildered. He pushed his way into the staffroom with tunnel vision, and almost trampled over Professor Flitwick in the process. He took to the corridor and knocked hastily on Hermione's door.

She opened it after Charlie thought she was elsewhere.

"Can I come in," he asked her quickly.

She looked taken aback. "Um, yeah, sure," she said.

He walked past her as she shut the door behind him.

"What's going on," she asked, gesturing for him to take a seat. He obliged and sat down on the couch in front of her window. He was conscious of the fact that her room mirrored his.

"Can you please tell me what the hell CPR is?"

Hermione stared at him before she clarified, "You mean cardiopulmonary resuscitation?"

"What?" Charlie had never heard of such nonsense before.

Hermione cracked a smile as she sat next to him. "It's a Muggle procedure for people who are in cardiac arrest. It pumps blood throughout the body when the heart isn't able to."

"How does it work," he asked.

"You give the person chest compressions and rescue breaths," Hermione answered. "Both of my parents are certified in it."

"That makes a lot more sense." His hands were on his knees in agitation.

"Charlie, what's this all about?"

"A couple of minutes ago, a group of girls thought it'd be funny to evidently faint in front of me. When I attempted to Rennervate them, they complained that I was supposed to perform CPR instead!"

Hermione started laughing.

He looked over at her, annoyed. "Oh, think it's funny, do you?"

"Charlie," she rolled her eyes, "obviously those girls fancied you!"

"Fancied me," he repeated, scandalized. "Might I remind you, Hermione, that I'm twenty-seven? Far older than the average seventh-year!"

"It's just a school crush," she placated.

He sighed as he threw himself against the back of the couch. "Tell me that when boys start throwing themselves at your feet as you walk the corridors."

"This really bothered you, didn't it?" she gathered.

"That's one way of putting it," he bit back.

"Why?"

He again looked over at Hermione to see her still smiling. "Because I'm not on the market, that's why," he replied.

"Did you tell your mum that?" Hermione folded her arms over her chest.

"What I meant was that I'm not available to any of my students. With other witches who are of age, it's all fair game."

"Don't get too cocky on yourself because I don't see anyone knocking on your door," Hermione threw at him.

"What, do you think they're just going to waltz right into Hogwarts?"

Hermione didn't answer but instead fell quiet for a long moment, her eyes moving down to her lap. She seemed to study her fingernails as she posed, "You've been knocking my door a lot lately."

Charlie, who happened to be playing with the curtain behind him, suddenly yanked on it, ripping it from its rod. The drape fell over Charlie and Hermione like a poncho.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Um, sorry about that," he phrased as he pulled the curtain off of them and bunched it into a misshaped ball. His felt his face burn. "You, uh, said about doors knocking, and meant that I, um, well, you know-," he stammered.

"Charlie," Hermione called out, "take a breath and slow down." She seemed to be enjoying herself.

 _Well, of course she would be! She did take pride in breaking my nose after all!_

He scowled at her. "What are you playing at?"

She feigned innocence. "What makes you think I'm playing at anything? I stated a fact. That's it."

Charlie shook his head and grumbled, "So what if I've been knocking on your door lately. Didn't think that that was much of a crime."

"It isn't," Hermione agreed. "I wasn't complaining."

Charlie felt his heart rate quicken while a rush of blood headed south. His throat felt parched like a desert that had been robbed of rain. He became aware of how small Hermione's couch was ( _Much tinier than mine_ , he would later assume) and how close she was sitting to him. _That's just a mere coincidence_ , he told himself. Her room became warm as the walls seemed to be closing in on him. _Blasted imagination_ , he seethed. _Playing tricks on me, huh?_ He chanced a look over to see Hermione regarding him curiously. Her expression was domestic to a gal but foreign to a bloke. He glanced down at her lips and quickly licked his own. _What the hell's happening to me?_ he wondered.

"Why aren't you complaining," he managed to ask. "I thought you hated me."

Her brows knit together in confusion. "When did I ever say that?"

"You never actually said it but we had a long summer, didn't we?"

"Or maybe it was too short," she suggested. "Too short in that we weren't able to work out our problems we had with each other like we did here."

"Have we worked out our problems," he posed.

Her eyes sparkled, hypnotizing him. "Not all of them," she shook her head slightly.

"What's left?"

Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she reached over him. She gasped when he took her hand in his. Power lines of electricity surged up his arm when their skin made contact. Their faces were inches from each other, the tips of their noses kissing. He leaned in closer, wetting his lips quickly. His heart rammed against the inside of his chest while he was dehydrated of all thought, logic, and reason. His moral compass had been compromised. He honestly didn't know what he was doing. Their breaths mingled together before them. Charlie felt his jeans bulge when Hermione gently placed her free hand on his chest, balling his white t-shirt in a closed fist. With one hand on her waist, he guided Hermione into his lap. He sat up straighter. He heard her breath hitch in her throat when his erection pressed into her. Charlie closed his eyes.

"Oxy will fix that for Missus right away! Yes, Oxy will!"

Charlie and Hermione sprang apart at the elf's intrusion, both staring in horror at each other. Charlie felt Oxy free the curtain he still held in one of his hands as he righted it in a matter of seconds. While he did this, Hermione jumped from Charlie's lap and fled her room.

Charlie liked Oxy, he really did. But it was in that moment that Charlie didn't know if he wanted to hug the elf in immense gratification or strangle him for his imposition. He was tipping towards the latter. He figured he ought to find Hermione and explain his actions yet his feet shuffled him into his room instead.

 _Not tonight_ , his feet seemed to tell him. _Perhaps in the morning_.

Charlie collapsed onto his bed, too perplexed to rid himself of his t-shirt and jeans. He stared up at his ceiling without really seeing. Did he almost kiss Hermione? Even weirder, she seemed to want to kiss him back. Right? Charlie then concluded he was dreaming. He had to be. There was no other explanation than that.

His successful first day as the new Care of Magical Creatures professor deteriorated into a delusional parody featuring Hermione as the female lead. He scoffed then jumped at the sound. _Was that me?_ He looked around in the darkness.

While sleep wandered about Hogwarts castle, it couldn't be found in Charlie's room. No, he waited for the sound of Hermione's footsteps that never came.

* * *

 **A/N** : Please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts! I certainly enjoy reading them!


	8. A Flurry of Owls

**The Sparrow Suite**

* * *

 **A/N** : Hello everyone! I meant for this chapter to be posted a day or so ago but ran into a family emergency that left me no time to write. However, everything seems okay for now. Thank you for the continued support in the form of views, reviews, favorites, and follows! It means a lot! I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 8: A Flurry of Owls

Morning wood was typically a good way to start Charlie Weasley's day as long as there was a witch next to him to engage it with. And depending on his mood, early morning sprints were more enjoyable than late-night marathons. Some birds looked beautiful at dawn while others only looked good if Charlie was hammered. But he didn't discriminate against the outer shell of any girl though that didn't mean he was willing to bed them all.

In Romania, a majority of the women he slept with only once. But there were several he frequented on more than once occasion. And yet he didn't feel as zealous with any of them as he did with Hermione the previous night. Not even the twin sisters he buffeted in a two-for-one special. He found this hard to believe as that was the first and second time he was sucked off.

Charlie stared blankly down at his erection while jailed in a cell of steam. He had turned his shower to a scalding heat, hoping to cleanse his dirty mind from thoughts of what he would like to do with Hermione if he ever had the chance. There was no denying it: Charlie was attracted to her, plain and simple, even though she was anything but. Why? He didn't know. When? He didn't know that either. He was so confused.

He considered penning a letter to Bill but knew his brother would take the piss out of him, triumphing over the fact that he had been right all along. He then contemplated his mum but quickly vetoed the idea in fear she would champion a winter wedding. After running through a list of his siblings (slightly cringing when Ron came up), Ginny was the only one left. He rolled his eyes. Wouldn't that be the highlight of her day? She had warned him before Hogwarts that he was to not mess around with Hermione. He remembered scoffing at the idea of it. Insanity was what he thought at the time.

But something had changed. He didn't know what it was and try as he might to figure it out, perhaps it was a mystery that was meant to remain hidden. After all, what would life be without anonymity? Sometimes, there didn't have to be a reason as to why this happened or what caused that to take place. Now and again, it just is. Charlie knew that that argument lacked logistics but when it came to infatuation, when did it ever really make sense?

As streams of water flooded down his body, he remembered the feel of Hermione's hand in his and how her other fisted his shirt into a tiny ball. Their eyes had locked onto each other's. Their noses had touched. Their breaths were short and jagged. His hand was on her waist. Before long, she was in his lap. The front of his jeans rubbed against the front of hers. It was erotic. He felt her pull in closer. He was building. Unable to wait a second longer, Charlie grabbed his length and with his thoughts on his late-night encounter with Hermione, he closed his eyes.

* * *

After Charlie fitted himself into a dark, grey t-shirt and jeans, he pulled on a pair of black socks and shoes and pocketed his wand. He stopped short when he exited his room, however, for he came face-to-face with Hermione's closed door. He hesitated as he weighed his options: He could knock on her door and sort out this whole mess with her now, or he could knock on her door after classes and sort out this whole mess with her later.

 _I wouldn't even make it half the day if I don't at least talk to her,_ he reasoned with himself, stepping forward and knocking on her door. He waited for what seemed like an eternity plus another passing moon before he knocked again.

"Hermione," he said softly. "It's me, Charlie. Are you up?" Still he received no response. "I just want to talk."

"Missus isn't in her room, Master Charlie," a voice said softly from behind him.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Oxy fidgeting with the strings on his swimming trunks. He looked smaller than he normally did. He reminded Charlie of fellow dragon handlers back in Romania who had to go to work doctoring a bad hangover.

"D'you know where she is," he asked the elf. "I have to talk to her."

"Missus didn't come back last night," Oxy sniffed. "Oxy doesn't know where Missus is."

"Damn it," he muttered. He stared back at her door as an idea then vegetated in his head. "Oxy," he said, kneeling down in front of the elf, "I don't care what time it is during the day, if you see Hermione, come and get me right away. Do you understand?"

"Would Master like Oxy to go and find Missus now," he questioned fervently. His hands had lost interest with the strings on his swimming trunks. Instead, he straightened his purple beanie atop his head with resolve.

"No," Charlie told him. "Give her some space. But if you do happen to see her," he pointed a thumb at his own chest. He then stood back up. "I mean, who knows? Maybe she's having breakfast in the Great Hall. Always a possibility," he shrugged. "That's where I'm going to start. You stay put, alright?"

"Yes, Master, I will keep lookout for Missus Hermione here!" Oxy exclaimed, his mood having vastly been improved with a renewed sense of purpose. He went over to Hermione's door and snapped his fingers as wooden beams materialized out of thin air, crisscrossing over each other. Afterwards, a thick platform popped into existence and rested on top of the supports. Oxy's guard tower, as Charlie thought it closely resembled one, came up to her doorknob. The elf scrambled over and stood atop it.

Charlie managed a smirk as he jogged down the corridor, sped through the staffroom, and out the door. He came to a stop just outside the Great Hall and looked up at the staff table. There was no sign of Hermione. He cursed under his breath. Just as he was about to turn away, he heard a voice wheeze, "Ah, there you are, Chunky!" Charlie turned and saw Slughorn puffing his way towards him. His round face looked sunburned. "A mighty walk that is from the Dungeons," he panted. "But can't skip out on breakfast now, can we?" Charlie bit back a retort that Slughorn should skip out on a months' worth of breakfasts.

"Actually, sir, I'm looking for Hermione."

"Well you can't go running about the castle on an empty stomach, can you," he asked with a jovial laugh. Slughorn started to walk forward as Charlie began to inch back. He didn't have time to sit down and eat, he had to find Hermione. That was what was on his mind at the moment and he wouldn't stop until he found her. Hell, he'd dive the deepest waters of the Black Lake or scour the corner pockets of the Forbidden Forest if that's what it took. However, before Charlie could make his escape, Slughorn looked back at him and waved, "Come on, Chunky! I'm hungry and breakfast won't last forever!"

Groaning audibly, Charlie followed Slughorn up to the staff table. They took seats next to each other. Seeing the food before him, Charlie realized he was hungry and figured he'd need a lot of fuel to run on to search for Hermione. After all, Hogwarts was a big place.

As Charlie swallowed a piece of toast whole ( _I know you mean to search for Miss Granger but you'll choke yourself before you even get started, Chunky!_ Slughorn gasped), the mail arrived: A cloud of owls swarmed the Great Hall, circling around to find their respective owners. Charlie returned to wolfing down his breakfast as he didn't expect any post. He was thus surprised when more than a dozen letters landed in front of him.

 _Did mum tell everyone in the family I accepted a teaching position at Hogwarts?_ he asked himself. _She would, wouldn't she?_ _That didn't mean the whole family had to write to me._

However, the topmost envelope wasn't from a Weasley. He couldn't pinpoint where exactly he had seen the name before but it looked rather familiar. Feeling himself frown, it hit him: It was a fifth-year Hufflepuff. Wondering what on earth she sent him a letter for, he ripped apart the parcel and extracted a folded sheet of parchment. As soon as he opened it, an army of small, animated hearts stormed him. He froze. A tie-dye of red, pink, and purple flashed in his eyes.

"What the bloody hell," he asked himself. Taking hold of his wand, he waved it and made the hearts disappear. He looked down the Hufflepuff table and saw his courier smile and wink at him. He refrained from rolling his eyes and returned to his mail. It was then that he noticed every letter of his was sent by one of his students. Most were from Gryffindors, though a good number were from Hufflepuffs as well with many of them asking him to accompany them to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop the first Hogsmeade's weekend. However, it was a letter from a Ravenclaw that morphed into a pair of lips and planted a kiss on his cheek. He felt his face burn.

"Seems like you got some admirers," Neville said, sitting on Charlie's other side. "Oh, and by the way, you got a bit of lipstick on your cheek."

Charlie grabbed his napkin and wiped furiously away. "Is it gone," he asked.

"More or less so," Neville answered after looking at him. "You still got a smear right there." He indicated a spot close to Charlie's eye. "So are all these from your students?"

"Every single one of 'em," Charlie confirmed. "I mean, it's flattering in a way but I'm too old for them."

"Not to mention the issue of Hermione, too," Neville added as he grabbed several pieces of bacon.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Charlie, did you already forget about what we said to each other in the staffroom the night before classes started?"

"Well, it was technically the morning before," Charlie corrected.

Neville shook his head. "Doesn't matter. All I remember is that you were a bit sensitive on the topic. You should've seen your face when I told you that you were on her mind a lot."

"It wasn't any different than it normally is," Charlie defended hotly.

"Okay," Neville nodded, sarcasm warping his tone. "I'll let you believe that."

Charlie sighed loudly. Since there really was no use in fighting and because he was rather curious, he asked, "Fine, what did she say about me then?"

"I shouldn't even tell you," he responded. "It wouldn't mean much to you anyway, right?"

"My feelings for Hermione," Charlie began slowly, "they're just complicated."

"So you do admit you like her?" Neville was on the verge of sounding victorious, irritating Charlie.

"I didn't say that," Charlie snapped through gritted teeth. "All I said was that she and I are confused."

A small smile spread over Neville's face. "Why do you keep denying what's right in front of you? I'm not saying you are but it just seems mental."

"Because I shouldn't feel like this towards her, that's why. I'm like some common goblin being that she dated my brother and all." He paused and rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly. "I'm just trying to figure things out, to make sense of something that doesn't have any justification behind it. I feel things about her I haven't felt in a long time and it's driving me mad. Can you buy that for now and tell me what she said?" He supposed he was pleading but Hermione did strange things to him.

Neville considered him for a full minute as the Great Hall grew exceptionally thunderous. In the back of his head, Charlie wagered most of the students of Hogwarts were now having breakfast. On his other side, Slughorn was trying to convince McGonagall to attend his Christmas celebration ( _Harry Potter will be there, you know!_ ).

"She told me about a conversation she had with Ginny about you before she came to Hogwarts." Charlie's ears perked up and were listening intently. "She didn't go into great detail over what was said but apparently, Ginny suggested to her that you weren't a bad guy and that patience was needed around you."

"What did Hermione ask for Ginny to tell her that?"

"I don't know," Neville shrugged. "But all throughout the opening feast, she kept a running commentary on you."

"Like what?" Charlie hadn't realized he was a bit panicked on what Neville might tell him.

"Ordinary stuff like how she was grateful you helped her practice her speech to the first-years and how you seemed to generally care for Oxy."

"Oh, is that it?" Charlie didn't know why he felt disappointed.

"Why do I get the feeling that you wanted to hear something else?"

"I wasn't," he lied.

"Do you really think I'm that gullible?" Neville looked over at him expectantly.

"She didn't…she didn't say she was confused or anything about…about me, kind of like how I am of her?"

"No," Neville answered softly. "But if you feel that way about her, odds are she feels the same about you."

"Maybe, maybe not," Charlie replied, seesawing his head. "There's no law indicating she has to reciprocate what I feel of her, is there?"

"No but I don't think you realize how much you're on her mind. Of course, I don't know what she thinks all the time but why else would she and Ginny have a conversation about you? Or why would she bring you up during the opening feast? I didn't ask or anything. To be honest, I'm not sure Hermione is even conscious about it."

"You haven't seen her, by the way, have you? She wasn't in her room this morning." As he said this, Charlie scanned the hall to see if she happened to be about.

"No, didn't see her at all," Neville told him. "But if I had to guess, I'd say she's in her classroom getting ready for the day and such."

"In her class-," Charlie began to repeat then stopped. "Why the hell didn't I think of that?!" He quickly jumped to his feet, knocking his chair backwards, and bolted out the door behind the staff table. Before he left, he distinctly heard Slughorn say, "Chappy didn't even finish his breakfast."

He took down a narrow corridor before dashing through the Entrance Hall. He made a beeline for the stairs. A group of second-years saw him quickly approaching as they screamed and dived out of the way. On the third landing, he ran through several ghosts, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation that accompanied in doing so, and skidded to a halt just outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He didn't even bother to knock as he pushed his way inside.

Charlie saw Hermione jump at the sudden intrusion. She was sitting at her desk with a quill in her hand, ink bubbles raining down on the parchment before her.

"Charlie? What're you doing here," she asked him. He noticed that there wasn't any hint of malice in her voice but instead trepidation.

"We need to talk," was his answer.

"What about?"

"Last night," he said.

Hermione remained quiet, her quill still in her hand. Charlie thought she looked rather pale as red rimmed her eyes. He wondered if she was able to sleep when it had evaded him. Her hair, wilder than it was the previous day, was in a loose ponytail. She had on a white, button-up blouse and jeans.

"C'mon, Hermione," he supplicated. "You can't keep avoiding me for the rest of the term."

"I'm not avoiding you," she commented softly as she set down her quill.

"Really? So what would you call last night?" His arms were loose by his sides.

"A mistake," she responded flatly.

Her words punched Charlie in the gut. He felt sick with it. Did it really mean nothing to her when it meant so much to him? Was it possible that Charlie was falling for Hermione who just wasn't attracted in him in return? Did he, himself, turn a blind eye on the possibility that perhaps he was only interested in her so he could be relieved of the stress he had of not being able to find someone he could settle down with? If that was the case, he'd never find it in himself to be happy no matter whom he was with. Charlie questioned why this was so hard for him when it came easy to everyone else.

"Can we talk about this later, Charlie? Classes are about to start," she posed.

He nodded slightly. "Yeah, if that's what you want." He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he turned away from her. He could feel her eyes on his back but he couldn't make the effort to face her after she struck him down in the manner she had.

Dejected, he took down the stairs to his classroom, a sea of students about. He didn't pay attention to any of them, even those that called out in greeting to him. There have been birds who have rejected Charlie's advances before but none of them felt as bad as Hermione's. He just didn't understand why she was so different. What set her apart from the others that had come before her? She certainly wasn't the prettiest nor did she have the voluptuous body that typically had him panting for breath. No, there was something in her eyes, in her movements, in her closeness that dizzied him. And no matter what two ways she spun it, there was enough intimacy between them the previous night to light the Palace of Westminster a dozen times over.

Charlie slogged through his classes without much enthusiasm. If his students found his teaching to be lacking, they remained quiet on it. They dutifully took notes even though they were probably bored to tears. He didn't feel too sorry for them, however, for he was still stuck on Hermione.

Although she assured him they were to talk later, Charlie couldn't find it in himself to feel any excitement for it. She had let him down easy earlier that morning. Would she do the same in the evening? If she did, what then? Would his attraction gradually taper off or would it grow stronger? He might go mental if it was the latter as now, he wouldn't be able to rescind McGonagall's offer. He was stuck until his agreement was fulfilled the following June.

After his last class had finished for the day, Charlie took solace in his room, ripping off his t-shirt and discarding it on the floor. He kicked off his shoes and fell on his bed, dreading his next appointment with Hermione.

* * *

Someone was knocking on his door. He was sure of that. He opened his eyes and looked around groggily. The knocking came again. He groaned as he pushed himself off his bed, stumbling over his own feet and banging into a wall. He cursed. Reaching his door, he opened it and saw Hermione.

"Did I wake you," she asked gently.

"Uh, no…well, yeah, but I needed to get up anyway," he replied dazedly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He then yawned.

"I need to go to the Owlery and I wanted to know if you cared to join me," she said, holding up an envelope in her hand. Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Yeah, let me just, um, let me get on a shirt," he replied. He turned around and quickly picked up his shirt off the floor and put it on. He then pushed on his shoes. Webs of nervousness tightened over his chest as he and Hermione took off down the corridor and out of the staffroom. They were both quiet, words that needed to be said left unspoken between them for now.

They climbed the stairs in silence, their footfalls heavy. They exited on the fourth floor and headed down a long corridor lined with paintings. Charlie ignored them. He felt uneasy. His stomach churned in unfavorable waters. The lines on his palms were running with sweat. He found it hard to swallow but insisted he keep on doing so. Next to him, Hermione seemed unperturbed though even Charlie knew looks can be deceiving.

He followed Hermione through a door and up a spiral staircase. Flaming brackets photographed their shadows prowling up the wall behind them. They then pushed out onto the battlements before walking under a high arch into the Owlery. Charlie looked above him and saw dozens of owls resting atop the perches while straw, owl droppings, and small skeletons of mice and voles carpeted the floor.

"You don't have an owl to use, do you," he asked Hermione, remembering Crookshanks.

"I'm going to use one of the school's," she replied.

"Who's the letter to anyway?"

"Ginny," was her response without looking at him. A dark brown owl flew down and met her, grasping the envelope in its talons. "Take this to Ginny Weaskey, okay?" she told it softly. The bird gave her a _hoot_ of understanding and took flight out of the windowless tower. She watched it go, it bleeding across an orange sunset as pale purple clouds bruised the sky.

Charlie wondered if Hermione meant to talk with him at all. She hadn't spoken a word on the way to the Owlery and since being here, she only let half a dozen slip out. He hadn't damaged things so bad between them that she was afraid of him, had he? Because when Charlie thought about it, nothing actually happened the previous night. However, he had speculated on how far either of them would have been willing to go if Oxy hadn't interrupted. He would've come to his senses and stopped things before they got too out of control, right? If not him, then Hermione most definitely.

"I'm sorry what I said to you," Hermione said so suddenly Charlie almost missed it. She turned and faced him. The sinking sun haloed her head. "About last night being a mistake," she clarified. "It's not that I didn't mean it but I figured I could've gone about saying it in a nicer way."

"Trying to let me down easy then?" He was trying his hand at humor but he could tell Hermione failed to spot it.

"I don't think either of us was thinking clearly," she shrugged. "We got carried away."

"So you regret it," he asked her. His arms were folded over his chest in a guarded manner as his eyes took to the floor. He was afraid of her response.

"Yes, and no," she answered.

Charlie felt like a knife had been driven into his back down to its hilt and then taken quickly out of him. He almost looked behind him to see if his blood matted the floor.

"You have to give me something more than that," he told her. "You're a bit cryptic today." He laughed once and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Charlie," she stepped forward, "the truth is that I'm attracted to you. And I have been for a long time. I guess it started when you came home earlier in the summer. I mean, I've seen you before but only in passing. But even then I was with Ron. So I took to admiring you from afar. It sounds silly, I know." She paused and sighed. "You and I then got on each other's nerves and for a long while, I lost my fascination in you. And I was happy to an extent. I figured I could stop living in a fantasy and start living in reality. But it was always there…that pull. I don't know what it was, well I guess what it is, with you and it scares me." She was hovering just above a whisper now. Charlie thought she sounded wounded and vulnerable.

"And where does Ginny fit into all this," he asked. "Neville told me this morning that you and Ginny had a conversation about me before you came to Hogwarts. And the letter you just sent her speaks for itself." Charlie hated the fact that he was taking advantage of Hermione when her defenses were down but he needed answers and he supposed this was his only chance to get them.

"She suspected that I fancied you long before I realized it myself," Hermione responded. "She kept asking me about it and I always denied it. But she's tenacious, you know that." Charlie nodded. "And I finally admitted it to her."

"When?"

"The day I broke your nose, after you and I had our little confrontation under the tree," she told him. "Remember, you went to de-gnome the garden afterwards?"

Charlie was stunned. He had no idea, no idea at all. Of course, Hermione barely registered her feelings at the time as well. It was Ginny who had to extract it from her. He licked his lips at a loss for what to say. A torrent of thoughts and feelings surged through him, so much so that he felt overwhelmed by it all. She was attracted to him. Was she still? She felt a pull towards him. Did that still exist? She admired him from afar all summer. Why didn't he notice?

"And the day after in Diagon Alley, I was jealous that you were ogling the witch at the front counter," she added.

"Ogling's a bit of a stretch," he said.

Hermione chanced a small smile. "Fine. Then whatever you were doing, I resented it." She sobered quickly. "I guess it came down to the fact that you weren't looking at me when I wanted you to. Which, I know, is selfish being that I was still with Ron at the time. I supposed I wanted your attention."

"You had it for the latter half of the summer," he nodded. "Not in the most flattering of ways but still." He took a step towards her. "Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner? And why do you think last night was a mistake?"

"What could have I said before? That I thought that I liked you but since I was with Ron none of it mattered anyway? I just didn't see the point. Besides, I thought there wasn't any possible way you felt the same about me."

"I didn't before," he replied. "But it's changed a bit since then." He tried to gauge her reaction and was surprised to find he wasn't able to.

"Why has it changed?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he shrugged. "Because it's driving me mad not knowing." He saw behind her that the orange sunset had dimmed considerably and the pale purple clouds had been vaporized. "And just so you know, I don't regret anything about last night. I don't think it was a mistake and I don't think it happened by chance."

"Of course not," Hermione agreed quickly. "We just admitted that we're attracted to each other." As soon as the words left her, she gasped aloud. She clapped both of her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were wide as this realization dawned on her.

Charlie felt a bout of laughter bubble in his chest but he quashed it. While components of his conversation with Hermione did harbor pools of humor, the matter at hand was much more serious that he initially believed it would be.

Hermione slowly released her hands back to her sides as she shook her head softly from side to side. "We shouldn't do this," she said.

"Why not," Charlie questioned. "You like me and I like you. What else do we need to know?" He felt as if he had seen a prized dragon egg. But when he reached out to grab it, he only caught thin air. It was frustrating to know that what he wanted was just footsteps away from him.

She rested a hand on the nape of her neck and replied, "It's just that I have a hard time trusting people."

Charlie quirked a brow upward even though she didn't see it. "And what does that mean?"

"That I'm afraid of getting hurt. I told you before that Ron was my first serious relationship. Before him, I had crushes but it never amounted to anything more than that. Then you came along and I entertained the idea for a moment or so but concluded that nothing would ever develop between us."

"Why would you think that? Is it because we didn't get along at first?"

She shook her head. "No, that's not it. It's what Ginny and I talked about, something I didn't tell Neville." She turned back around and faced the darkening sky outside, her arm resting on a ledge. Charlie walked over and copied her actions. "We talked about this a bit before but it has to do with all the women you've been with."

"Hermione," he interrupted, "I already told you that those meant nothing to me."

"And part of me wishes I could believe that. But if you were to be honest with yourself, you can't say that you haven't thought of becoming more with at least one of the women you've slept with, can you?"

Charlie looked over at her but she didn't return his gaze. A light wind washed their faces. He began to study the lines that ran across his fingers. They reminded him of the notches on his headboard back in Romania and the countless women he had shared his bed with. With most of them, he knew one shag was all it was going to be. However there were others he thought of otherwise.

"Okay, I'll admit there were some that I wanted more with but they didn't. I moved on and I forgot about 'em."

"You don't ever think about them from time to time?" Hermione gazed over at him. He could see that she was protecting herself. Her eyes spoke volumes against any impending assaults. They warned against it.

"Not as much as you're imagining. I mean, I don't sit around and think about these things every day. Even in Romania I couldn't afford to when handling dragons."

"I'm worried, Charlie, that to you I'm just a passing infatuation, that if we try something, you'll get tired of me or decide I'm not worth the effort. Or that maybe you'll compare me to the women you've had sex with in the past. It's scary because I can't stop thinking about you. I haven't since we talked at the Black Lake. And as much as whatever you're feeling is driving you crazy, it's doing the same to me."

The sky was now a midnight blue while a city of stars began to glitter into existence. The Black Lake was visible from their vantage point as well as the rolling hills that enclosed it, closely resembling the back of dragon in the looming darkness. And far ahead, a line of lights from Hogsmeade Village could be observed, becoming brighter as the night grew blacker.

Charlie turned his body to face Hermione as she did the same. He grabbed both of her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. His breathing quickened.

"I'll tell you now that I can't promise any of the things you mentioned. Maybe I will get tired of you or think you're not worth the effort. And if we ever do reach the stage of sex, who knows if I'll be able to resist comparisons. But never before have I had this type of conversation with anyone."

"That doesn't mean anything," she threw away. Even as she said this, her hands tightened in his. He squeezed back gently.

"It means a whole hell of a lot," he corrected. "You're different, Hermione, different from everyone I've been with in the past. You're cautious about diving into uncertainty, you're capable of carrying on an intelligent conversation, and you're the only girl who's been able to go toe-to-toe with me in an argument."

"I'm positive Ginny could throw down the gauntlet with you," Hermione interjected with a small grin.

"Possibly but I'm not interested in her like I am in you," he replied. "Being with you these past couple of days…it's been refreshing."

"Don't you think we might be moving too fast," she said. "It was just a couple of weeks ago that we couldn't seem to stand each other and now we're talking about potentially starting something."

"Hang on a minute," Charlie posed. "That day you broke my nose…you both hated me and was attracted to me at the same time?"

"I never hated you," she responded. "I was just riled up from my fight with Ron. Then you came over and started everything over. I was irritated." When Charlie grinned, she asked, "You're not even sorry about it, are you?"

"Well how do you feel about breaking my nose?"

Hermione smiled shyly down at her shoes. "If you want me to apologize, I will."

"You shouldn't unless you mean it."

"Then I won't."

Charlie laughed deeply. With his hands still entwined with Hermione's, he said, "Can I ask you something?" She nodded. "What was your letter to Ginny about?"

"She wanted me to keep her updated," Hermione answered.

"About what?"

"Everything," she shrugged. "But mainly it was to make sure that you were being nice."

"Well that's a bit degrading," Charlie commented. "My little sister going behind my back to see if I play fair." He shook his head though he couldn't find it in himself to be angry with her. Not with Hermione standing as close as she was and her hands still in his. It was then that he realized how soft they were. "What did you say?"

"The truth," she said simply. "That you and I were getting on fine. I didn't tell her about last night though."

"That's good. If you did, she'd come to Hogwarts for my head."

Hermione's face scrunched together. "What're you talking about?"

He sighed. "Ginny warned me about messing around with you the night she got back from her honeymoon."

"Messing around? What did she mean by that?"

"Kind of like what you're afraid of," he supplied. "She thought I might come to think of you as a conquest, someone to sleep with to add to my already prodigious list of women I've been with before." Pink flaked her cheeks. "I mean, that's not what I'm doing," he added quickly, growing alarmed when Hermione tried to pull her hands out of his.

"I know, I know," she nodded, though he saw that her shoulders were tense.

"Hermione, I'm willing to take things slow if that's what you want. If it makes you feel any better, I'm kind of new at this too, being in a relationship and all."

"You haven't been in any before?" She looked up at him.

"No, I have but I wasn't this nervous about it."

"What makes me any different?" She was quiet.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "That's what I've been asking myself over and over but I keep coming up blank."

Hermione took another step closer to him, shrinking the gap that breathed between them. "So where do we go from here?"

Charlie licked his lips and said back to her, "You tell me."

* * *

 **A/N** : How was that ending? Good? Bad? Okay? Please leave a review to let me know!


	9. The Danse Macabre

**The Sparrow Suite**

* * *

 **A/N** : Hello everyone! Yes, this chapter is being released much later than I had initially anticipated but work has been extremely hectic. However, it is in this installment that a new divergent path sets forth. In my original posting of this story, I had planned a Forbidden Forest mystery. If you read to the end of the chapter, you'll see the seeds of it there. Also, thanks for the views, reviews, favorites, and follows! All are tremendously encouraging and truly makes my day!

* * *

Chapter 9: The Danse Macabre (or the Dance of Death)

"So are you guys together or not?" Neville shook the Petri dish in his hands, the pods he had just extracted from the nearby Snargaluff cracking against each other loudly.

"I don't know," Charlie said. He had his hands on his hips and wondered if he had dramatized his own theatrics by cornering Neville in the greenhouses at midnight to talk about Hermione. "We had this long chat in the Owlery a couple of nights ago. Last Friday to be exact."

"About what?"

"I was trying to see if she fancied me or not," Charlie replied quietly. Normally, his cheeks would've grown ripe red for being so candid about chasing a girl nearly seven years younger than himself with Neville, a bloke he liked but didn't really know. However, he couldn't find the time to practically care at the moment. He had more pressing matters to attend to and questions that needed to be answered.

"Well, what'd she say?"

He shook his head, "Nothing. I asked her what she wanted to do and all she did was grab my hand. We then went down to dinner together without saying a word."

Neville regarded him curiously for a moment, the stars beyond the glassed walls of the greenhouses like a chaotic jewelry jubilee. "I've never seen you two holding hands."

"Because that was the only time she did it," Charlie responded. He was exasperated. "What does that mean, grabbing my hand once and never afterwards? That she fancied me then but not now?" He then added to himself, "Maybe she's having second thoughts on everything." He looked over and saw an empty pot sitting on a bench close by. It looked to be bottomless.

"I hate to tell you that I don't have much of an understanding when it comes to girls," Neville nearly whispered. He was jostling around the Snargaluff pods again. They rang together shrilly. "I had my Gran, but that's it."

This broke Charlie out of his stupor thinking how well Hermione's hand had fit in his. "You've never been together with anyone before?"

"Not really," he said. "I mean, I've been on again off again with Hannah Abbott. She was in my year in Hufflepuff. She's training to be a Healer, you know."

"Yeah? And what have you guys done together?" Charlie wondered if he could feed off of Neville's own relationship woes as a precursor to what he could possibly expect with Hermione.

"I don't know, we went on a few dates, I guess, but nothing more than that. She didn't want me to come to Hogwarts, actually."

"Why's that?" Charlie had his arms crossed over his chest.

"Because she knew she wouldn't be able to see me as often. When I was in Auror training, we saw each other every night. And it was fun for a while but the thought of teaching Herbology excited me more than being with her."

"You let her down easy, didn't you?"

He shrugged. "We've been writing to each other every day and she seems fine. In fact, I'm going to see her in Hogsmeade this weekend. You know, just to have a spot of lunch." He frowned, then suggested, "How about you take Hermione out?"

"Come again," Charlie blinked. His mind had crept away from him, hypothesizing on how soft Hermione's lips were and how they would feel against his. If Hermione was in the greenhouses with him now instead of Neville, he doubted he would have any self-control to stop himself from snogging her senseless. Midnight did strange things to him.

"Why don't you take Hermione on a date to Hogsmeade? As professors, we're allowed to leave grounds whenever we want."

"You're not suggesting Madam Puddifoot's, are you?"

"That tea shop where all the couples go," Neville asked for clarification. When Charlie nodded, he shrugged, "Wherever, really. The place doesn't matter. All that does is you spending time with her."

"What if she says no?"

"I thought you said you were willing to try something with her?" Neville stared over at Charlie.

"Yeah but what if she doesn't want anything to do with me? It's like I said: She hasn't exactly been open with how she feels. Sometimes, I think she likes this little tug-of-war between us. She's just afraid of what'll happen if I win."

"You don't know if you never try," Neville told him. "You can visit the greenhouses at midnight all you want but remember that the plants need sunlight to grow."

Charlie snorted. "That was quite philosophical."

He shrugged in return. "It was what Professor Sprout used to tell me."

Charlie glanced over at Neville to see him playing with the pods again.

"D'you think she'd say yes?"

"Well, she does seem to like you," Neville supplied. "It seems to me she's waiting for you to take the first step."

"And what if I never did?"

"Please don't even try to convince yourself of that. That's just tasteless. You like her, she probably likes you. What else is there to know? There's the possibility she might turn you down but so what?"

"What do you mean so what? That's a worse-case scenario!"

"Don't worry," Neville waved away. "I'm sure it's not a likely one."

Charlie did have to admit that Neville made a fair point. Yes, Hermione said that she was attracted to him (a tidbit Charlie refrained from informing Neville of) but that didn't mean she wanted to date him. Her hesitation in the Owlery was more than enough to let Charlie know that perhaps Hermione regretted all she told him. To him, however, it wasn't enough.

As he left the greenhouses, the stars overhead lighting him a path, he figured he had a pair of balls for something. And that something was for him to go up to Hermione and ask her on a date. Yet, even thinking of doing so made his stomach squirm uncomfortably. He felt he was being thrown from side to side on a rocking ship in the middle of the ocean. Who knows what would happen if he tipped over the side and fell into the water.

When Charlie entered back in his room, a brown Horned owl was knocking on his window with its beak. He recognized this as Harry's. Stymied, Charlie waved his wand to let the bird in. He flew over to Charlie, dropped off a single scroll of parchment, and left. Unfurling it, he read in Ginny's handwriting: _Three Broomsticks, 7 tomorrow night._

* * *

A cold spell hung like a cloud over Charlie as he made his way to the Three Broomsticks. He had just finished dinner when he pulled on a grey, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans that had bred several burn marks on them. A cobalt blue warred across the sky as Charlie entered the inn, a mob of voices assaulting his ears. Looking around, he spotted Ginny tucked against a corner. He twisted his way through a maze of tables, tripping over the leg of a chair that held a burly wizard. The burly wizard, however, appeared to be drunk for when he fell on the floor, a gale of laughter left him while deepening streams of tears poured down his face. His comrades pointed and hooted, pounding their fists on the table.

 _It's only seven,_ Charlie thought to himself, slightly shaking his head. Back at the dragon reserve in Romania, there was an unspoken rule amongst the handlers that under no circumstances whatsoever were you to get pissed before ten. Why? Charlie didn't know but it was the only law they lived by.

"Hey, Ginny," Charlie greeted when he had reached her.

"No trouble getting out of the castle," she asked as he took the seat across from her.

"Not at all," was his reply, remembering what Neville had told him the previous night. "So what's up? You barely said anything in your note yesterday."

Instead of answering, she posed, "You want anything? A Butterbeer, maybe?"

"Just tell me what's going on, Ginny. Tonight's a school night and I have classes to teach in the morning." He sat back in his chair, folded his arms over his chest, and waited.

She stared over the table at him rather accusingly but didn't say anything right away. She was straining his patience. Charlie though held her gaze, already knowing the topic of discussion.

"Hermione and I have been sending letters back and forth ever since she left for Hogwarts. I asked her to keep me updated on how things were going because I was worried."

"About what?" he cut across.

"You and her," Ginny answered icily. "And it turns out I was right."

Charlie felt as if she had flipped on the switch that activated his anger. "You mind getting to the point a bit quicker?"

"I warned you about messing around with her," she told him quietly. "And I made the mistake thinking you actually understood." She shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not sure what you said in making Hermione think you liked her but it has to stop."

"Hermione's a big girl. She can take care of herself."

"I know she is but I know you, too. You're going to end up hurting her, Charlie. Your reputation bedding women speaks for itself. I mean, I already told how many conversations I heard you and Bill had when I was younger. And sometimes it sounded like you were proud of the fact of many of them you shagged. It was disgusting then and it still is now. I won't let you do that to my best friend, I can't."

"So what are you going to do about it? Kick over the can so she can see what's inside?"

"It crossed my mind," Ginny responded coolly.

"Well, I usually hate to burst your bubble but in this case, I don't mind it so much: Hermione knows. I told her."

"And you just expect me to believe that?" Ginny managed a harsh laugh.

"You can believe whatever you want," Charlie shrugged. "But it's the truth. Ask Hermione yourself if you want solid proof."

"Why are you being this way," she asked bitterly. "Just a couple of weeks you couldn't stand to be in the same room as her."

"Things change," he answered shortly. "Not that it concerns you."

"It does since you are my brother and Hermione is my friend."

"So you care about her more than about me. Is that it?" He didn't know why but this rather offended him.

"I didn't say that," she said. "But I know you can take care of yourself."

"Are you insinuating Hermione can't? Because if so, that's some strong faith you have in her."

Ginny paused, her Butterbeer left untouched before her and her hands in her lap. Though they were of blood relation, Charlie wouldn't put it past Ginny to whip a hex over the table at him if he pushed her too far. He wouldn't dare to return the favor in fear that if his mum found out, it would mean his head. The infamous Weasley temper had a legend to live up to, after all, from all parties involved.

"Do you like her?" Ginny's tone was clipped but Charlie ignored it.

"That's one way of putting it," he responded.

"What's changed then? Why the sudden interest in Hermione?"

Charlie's gaze skirted over to her drink for no reason at all. He wasn't avoiding her gaze but trying to think of answers to the questions he had been asking himself for nearly a week now. He was just was perplexed but this sudden change in him as Ginny was. It was bizarre to say the least.

"I dunno," he sighed, scratching away at his ear. "I don't have a clear-cut answer but you can bet all that hair on your head that I'm trying to find one." Ginny remained silent. "Is that what you're so angry about? You think I'm leading Hermione on?"

"When you see it from my point of view, that's what it looks like you're doing. Think about it: You spent the first half of the summer ignoring the fact that she existed, and you fought with her the entire second half. Then, after you guys come to Hogwarts, away from the family if I might add, you take a sudden interest in her."

"I'm surprised you don't give your friend more credit where it's due," he said. Before she could plan her reply, he added, "What was that then when you told her that I'm a good guy but patience is needed around me?"

She looked surprised. "Were you eavesdropping on us?"

"No," he shook his head, feeling a blush flame up his neck. "Neville told me."

"And how does he know?"

"Hermione told him."

Ginny rolled her eyes but answered nonetheless, "You are a good guy when you want to be. You are to me at least…most of the time."

"And what about that patience bit?"

Ginny sighed. "I meant that she needed only a little patience when you finally turned the corner of maturity and stopped fighting with her all the time. She hated the fact that you guys were always at each other's throats." Ginny must've detected a fleeting emotion in Charlie's eyes for she pointed her finger and tacked on, "Oh, don't tell me you liked it!"

"Maybe a little," he shrugged.

"Why?" She looked so confused it was almost comical.

"She was different from everyone else," he answered simply. "She is different from everyone else. All these other girls I'd been with before…they were fun in bed but outside of that, nothing was there. You know what I mean?"

"Maybe a little," she nodded slightly. "But that doesn't explain the fact why you just didn't talk to her instead of yelling at her all the time."

"We didn't yell at each other all the time-," he began but was interrupted.

"Fine, then most of the time," Ginny corrected.

Charlie thought about this for a split second before he told her, "That's how we learned to communicate."

"What does that mean?"

"I remember Hermione, back when I first met her the summer of the Quidditch World Cup and the second time at Bill's wedding. I know she was there when Harry defeated Voldemort but for one reason or another, I didn't commit it to memory. Anyway, all those times we ran into each other before, I didn't think much of her mainly because she was a lot younger than me."

"Seven years isn't that big of a gap," Ginny inserted.

"It is when it defines a witch who isn't of age yet to a wizard who is," Charlie returned. Ginny shrugged her response. "When I came back over the summer, she'd changed. Well, it goes without saying that everyone did really but I noticed her the most. Actually, I didn't even recognize her at first. That's probably where my feelings for her first started and I hadn't even realized it yet. That day she broke my nose gave me my first opportunity to talk to her."

At this, Ginny snorted loudly, drawing the ire from two elderly witches at a nearby table. "You could've talked to her anytime you wanted. You didn't have to wait for something to happen before then."

"I felt like I did," he said.

"So what if she never did break your nose? You would've gone about ignoring her the rest of the summer?"

"I never ignored her," he retorted.

"Oh, really? So what would you call it when one person completely disregards another?" she snapped.

"I didn't completely disregard her," he defended. "All I said was that I never made to talk to her."

"And her breaking your nose somehow changed that?" Ginny looked dubious.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I wanted an apology so I stormed over to her. From then on, that's how we communicated."

"That makes very little sense," Ginny stated.

"But that's how it is," Charlie said. "Listen, I also find it strange that my feelings for Hermione changed in the way they have. I think about it all the time. But I like her. I like her a lot."

Ginny looked over at him, listening to his every word. Her demeanor was more at ease as opposed to when Charlie first entered The Three Broomsticks. And though he was rather insulted his sister deemed his infatuation with Hermione anything but honorary, he did admire the fact that she was willing to stick up for her friend in such a strong way.

"It's just hard to believe," Ginny commented. "These sudden turn of events. It's not like you."

"I know," he conceded gently. "And I agree completely. But that's just how it happened."

"Promise me something, Charlie."

"What?"

"Promise me you won't hurt her," Ginny conditioned.

Charlie, however, read through her words. With his eyes boring into hers, he asked, "There's something else going on with Hermione, isn't there?"

Ginny's failure to hold his gaze was an answer unto itself.

"What is it?" he pressed.

"I can't tell you," she shook her head. "That's private."

"It doesn't have anything to do with me, does it?"

"No," Ginny shook her head. "It's nothing like that." Charlie waited for her to continue but she remained tight-lipped.

Folding his hands in his lap, he decided to let the matter go and instead said, "I promise I won't hurt her."

"You mean that, right?"

"My wand and everything else," he nodded. However, he then thought of another question to ask her. "You didn't tell the family about me and Hermione, did you?"

"Are you insinuating you two are going to be a couple soon," she managed to smile. "Because nothing has happened between you and her." She finally took a sip of her Butterbeer.

"Well, nothing yet but I'm going to ask her out on a date," he said.

At this, Ginny began choking on her drink. She hacked loudly into her first while the two elderly witches looked scandalized.

 _"This younger lot has been bred by dogs,"_ Charlie heard one of them say.

"Are you…Are you serious?" Her look was one of immense surprise.

"Yeah, why?" She shrugged. "You're not going to try and lecture me out of it, are you?"

"Not unless you plan on sleeping with her afterwards. If that's your only goal, I'll take whatever's left after Hermione gets through with you."

Charlie barked with laughter. After he finished, he shook his head and told her, "I don't plan on that. Hermione deserves better."

Ginny was quiet for a moment, growing serious in the meantime, and then said, "You really like her, don't you?"

"More than I ever thought I would," he remarked. He then looked over at her and warned, "Not a word to anyone, yeah?"

"Keep your lid on, I haven't said anything to anyone except Harry."

"Harry? What'd you tell him for?"

"Excuse me if you forgot but Harry is my husband! I wouldn't keep anything from him. Besides, you don't have to worry. He would keep something like this to himself."

"Fine," Charlie backhanded the air. "Just make sure you two keep this to yourselves. I don't want Bill catching wind of anything and especially mum. You know how she can be."

"She might faint from the fact that you actually found someone," Ginny smiled.

"But she won't found out, will she?" Charlie quirked up a brow at his sister.

"Don't worry," she replied. "Your secret's safe with me."

After they said their goodbyes, Ginny apparated out of Hogsmeade while Charlie began his trek back to Hogwarts. Black carpeted the sky while ponds of yellow light from passing shops deluged his steps. His thoughts went back to his conversation with Ginny and how he had to justify to her his true intentions with Hermione. Was it too much for her to believe that he now liked the witch he had been at war with since the summer? Apparently it was enough to warrant a visit from his little sister with promises and threats.

Of course, he understood that all Ginny was doing was watching out for her friend. But did she honestly think that all Charlie wanted to do was shag Hermione? If he was to be truthful, the thought did cross his mind on more than once occasion but he was willing to wait when Hermione was ready for it. And quite honestly, the thought of snogging her frequented his mind more than sex.

"Charlie," a familiar voice suddenly called out from behind him.

He turned and was startled to see the bird of his dreams coming towards him.

"Hermione," he managed. He saw that she was wearing a white shirt covered by light, purple top and dark pants.

"What're you doing here," they asked each other at the same time. They then both laughed as Charlie gestured for her to go first.

"I was at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop," she said, and help up a bag Charlie hadn't seen before. "I was running low on ink."

"Correcting a lot of homework mistakes from your students," he posed.

"Something like that," she returned making Charlie grin widely. "So what brings you to Hogsmeade on a school night?"

"The Three Broomsticks," he jerked his thumb in the direction of the inn. "I met with Ginny."

"Ginny?" Hermione looked around to see if she was anywhere to be found. "She was here?"

Charlie nodded. "Why? Did you have something to say to her?"

"Not anything that couldn't be said in a letter," she shook her head. "But it would've been nice to see her."

"She didn't stay very long. Not even an hour, actually," he told her.

"Did she ask to meet you?"

"She sent me a one-liner a little after midnight," he replied.

"It must've been urgent," Hermione stated. "What did you guys talk about?"

"A little of this and a little of that," Charlie answered. It was complete guesswork if Ginny wanted Hermione to know what it was she and Charlie conversed of. He wagered Ginny wouldn't mind though Hermione was another issue entirely.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Hermione said.

"It's not that," he licked his lips. "I just don't know how you'd take it."

Hermione gazed quizzically at him. Random villagers passed by behind her.

"Ginny thought I was leading you on," he sighed after a moment. "She didn't think I actually liked you."

"What did you tell her?" He noticed Hermione was gripping her bag from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop tightly.

"The truth," he shrugged. His words made her smile slightly. "And speaking of the truth," he continued on, "you still haven't given me an answer on what you think about giving us a chance." Before she could find her reply, he held up his hands, and said, "Wait, wait, wait. That's not what I meant to say." He closed his eyes and shook his head. He breathed deeply in and deeply out. When he opened them again, he found Hermione trying to stifle a laugh.

"What's so funny," he asked. However, he too was trying to fight a grin that was working its way across his face.

"I don't know," she responded. "Sometimes I find you amusing."

"Sometimes," he repeated.

"Yes, sometimes," she finalized.

"Well, I guess I'll take that for now but what I wanted to ask you was if you would like to go on a date with me this weekend." He held his breath when he finished, anxiously waiting for her reply. He knew he didn't ask her in the most formal of ways (he had planned to concoct a strategy for that on his walk up to the castle) but then again, he didn't anticipate on running into Hermione in Hogsmeade when he was woefully unprepared.

Time seemed to stretch on forever between them as Hermione contemplated her answer. A hive of butterflies nestled in the pit of Charlie's stomach. He was glad he hadn't accepted that Butterbeer from Ginny.

"A date," she posed lightly. Charlie nodded. "Where did you want to go?"

"Is that a yes?" Charlie felt his brows pull together.

When Hermione nodded, happiness exploded inside of Charlie. The butterflies rioted about his stomach.

"Did you want to grab dinner in Hogsmeade?"

"No," Charlie shook his head. "I had something else in mind."

"And what's that?"

"Something you'll find out this weekend," he shrugged. And taking the initiative, he grabbed her bag from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.

"Charlie, you don't have to-," Hermione began to protest but Charlie cut across her.

"It's fine," he said. "It isn't heavy." He grinned when he saw Hermione huff. "Did you want to head back or did you have other shops you wanted to visit?"

"We should go," she suggested. "We both have classes tomorrow."

He nodded as he eyed her hand and took it, gently entwining his fingers with her own. He knew it was a daring move to make but at that moment in time, he felt rather bold in his endeavors. They walked in silence back towards Hogwarts, a cool air wading over them. Charlie relished his closeness with Hermione and the physical contact they shared together. It was intimate.

When they passed through the front gates, Charlie and Hermione stopped short at the sight that met their eyes: A long line of house-elves were making their way out of the front doors of the castle. Leading the procession was a plump elf that sat cross-legged atop a circular carpet, it floating in midair. Two other elves trooped behind him, carrying small, flaming torches in their hands while a bag in the size of a small ball floated between them.

Charlie and Hermione rushed forward across the dark lawns. They saw a nervous-looking Oxy bringing up the tail-end of the line.

"Oxy," Charlie asked, a bit breathless from his sprint, "what's going on here?"

"Master, Missus," he squeaked. "You's shouldn't be here! You's shouldn't be here!" He broke away from the march and tried to push Charlie and Hermione into the castle. It was a futile effort on the elf's part for he was too small to move either of them.

"What're you," Charlie paused to catch his breath, "what're you talking about?"

Oxy looked back over his shoulder worriedly. Charlie followed his gaze and saw the fat elf at the front had already disappeared into the Forbidden Forest. An orange glow emitting from the blazing brackets behind him highlighted a golden robe he was wearing.

Charlie stared at it and then back down at Oxy. He then put the two together. "That's Berry, isn't it?" Oxy didn't answer but instead visibly shuttered. "Hermione, look over there," Charlie pointed. "That elf wearing the golden robe, that's Berry. He's the one that took Oxy's clothes."

"You's shouldn't be here, Master and Missus, you's shouldn't be here!" Oxy was looking frantic now. The Forbidden Forest had already swallowed half the line of elves.

"Oxy, why are all the house-elves going into the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione asked.

He looked to be on the verge of tears, his large, tennis-ball shaped eyes swimming in them. He then whispered up, "Master and Missus, follow Oxy but do not be seen! Do not be seen!" He then peeled away from them, his little legs carrying him as fast as they would go.

Without hesitation, Charlie pulled out his wand and pointed it at Hermione's purchases she had made in Hogsmeade. The bag shrunk down so that it fit in the palm of his hand. He pocketed it. He turned to Hermione and suggested, "The Disillusionment charm should work, yeah?" When she nodded, he tapped the top of her head with his wand. Her body soon vanished and blended in with her surroundings. Charlie repeated this action on himself. "Here, take my hand."

"Where is it," he heard her ask.

He blindly reached in the direction her voice came from, first grabbing her shoulder, then her arm, and finally her hand. "Didn't think it would be so hard to find you," he commented softly to her. "C'mon, let's go." The pair then raced off after Oxy. His tiny form had just disappeared behind the front line of the trees.

A chilly breeze whipped over them as they entered the Forbidden Forest. The branches overhead gossiped together. Far ahead of him, Charlie could just make out twin glows of orange fire. He thought about lighting his wand but considered Oxy's warning for him and Hermione to not be seen.

"Where do you think it is we're going," Hermione whispered softly in his ear. Her cool breath tickled his cheek.

"Dunno," he murmured back. "But don't let go of my hand, alright?"

"I have my wand with me, you know."

"Still, we should stay together," Charlie told her quietly, squeezing her hand as he did so. Ever since they had set foot in the Forbidden Forest, the need to protect Hermione had greatly consumed him. He didn't know why this instinct took hold of him as he knew Hermione was quite capable of handling herself. Yet, the further and further they crept through the trees, this need persisted and even heightened to a degree. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, shielding her body from whatever might target them. He was hungry in making sure no harm came to her.

Charlie and Hermione walked behind Oxy, he and the other elves nothing but moving shadows before them. The convoy continued on in silence, winding its way deeper and deeper into the dark depths of the forest. They passed over a skinny creek that snaked its way into and out of a neighborhood of trees. The water slithered through it smoothly. The branches crowded above them, obstructing the night sky from view. Here and there, a lone twig would snap, the sound echoing into the black labyrinth they were in.

Charlie leaned over and asked Hermione softly, "Are you okay?" He felt her arm brush his.

"Yeah," she responded though when she said this, her hand squeezed his. He returned it. "How much longer do you think we'll be?"

Charlie shrugged then remembered Hermione couldn't see him. "I'm not sure," was his reply. "Did you want to turn around?"

"No," she said. "And even if I did, do you honestly think we'd find our way back on our own?"

"Have you ever been this far in the forest before?"

"Once but that was back in fifth-year," she replied.

Charlie grew curious at this but was refrained from asking when his shirt was ensnared by a thick bush of thorns. He pulled and tugged for freedom and cursed when it wasn't given to him.

"Here," he heard Hermione say. He then saw her wand hover in midair before a small jet of yellow sparks flew out of it. In the next instant, Charlie's shirt was released.

"Thanks," he said to her. "Not sure why I didn't think of that."

They continued on, fighting their way through a heavy underbrush, both Charlie and Hermione getting stuck numerous times in it. Charlie envied the house-elves who were so small that they were able to crawl underneath it, or in Berry's case, float over it.

Suddenly, the path they were on trekked downwards at an incline. At the bottom, it spilled out on a squared plot of dirt which was framed by a city of trees that stretched up into the darkness and out of sight. Charlie then saw a small cauldron situated in the middle of the patch as the house-elves looped around it.

"Bring him forward," a deep voice boomed. Charlie looked around and saw Berry loom over the cauldron. He was still sitting cross-legged on his floating carpet. For the first time, Charlie was able to get a good look at Berry the house-elf: He was stocky, much more so than the rest of the elves at Hogwarts as his arms and shoulders were thick in muscle. His head, however, was disproportioned with the rest of his body as it seemed too small for it. His eyes were as big as Oxy's but as black as the night is before the dawn. His nose was short and flat while his mouth was nothing but a thin line. Berry also had no hair but remained bald. The top of his head was shiny as if it had just been primed. Most importantly was that Berry was still wearing Oxy's golden robe. The circular bag that Charlie had seen before was set on the ground and opened. He recoiled, however, when he saw the body of a dead elf inside it. The smell was putrid. He heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath beside him.

"Set him in," Berry nodded towards the cauldron. The two elves that acted as morticians picked up the bag by its sides and catapulted the dead body inside the pot. It landed with sickening _thump_.

"Prepare the revival," Berry ordered next. The elves snapped their fingers making a dozen vials of potions appear out of thin air. Charlie was impressed by their magic. They then scrambled about, emptying each flask into the cauldron. _Sizzles_ and _hisses_ and _whooshes_ ripped into the still air while a kaleidoscope of colors emanated from within. The pot was now flooded to its brim as the body of the dead elf floated around face-down inside it.

Without another word, Berry snapped his fingers, igniting a fire at the base of the pot. Flames soon licked up its sides as the elves nearest to it stepped back, some tripping over others. Oxy had turned completely around and was in a frenzy looking for Charlie and Hermione. The surface of the cauldron then bubbled menacingly as the dead elf's body sunk underneath the potion mixture as if it had been dragged downwards. The pot then emitted jets of what looked like blood, sending the elves in a panic. They began to run around with their skinny arms over their heads, trying to avoid the onslaught. A great many of them ran into each other and fell over while others took shelter behind the barks of the nearby trees. Their heads poked out from behind them to witness the chaos.

Through it all, Charlie saw that Berry was unperturbed. In fact, he was still situated over the cauldron, his carpet flinging to the left and right to avoid the spews of blood. His eyes were closed but his mouth was moving. However, Charlie couldn't hear what he was saying for anarchy still reigned over the elves.

"Oh, this is awful," he heard Hermione say. "We have to stop it." She made to pull her hand out of his but he maintained a strong grip.

"Wait a second," Charlie replied. "We don't know what it is they're doing yet."

"But they're all so scared!"

"I know, I know," he tried to placate. "But let's just see what happens."

They didn't have to wait much longer for the noises abruptly stopped, the surface of the cauldron stilled, and the ejecting of blood ceased. Ever so slowly, the elves that had scattered returned to the clearing while those that had fallen over picked themselves back up.

"Come forth, Saucey," Berry commanded loudly. He held out his arms in front of him as if he was expected to catch something.

Charlie's gaze was then diverted to the pot as its top layer broke. He was stunned to see the elf that was surely dead only moments ago emerge out of the cauldron. Yet, when Saucey found his way to the ground, Charlie saw that the life that had left him upon his death had not returned: The elf was aged greatly. His silver hair stretched down to his skinny ankles while his skin was heavily wrinkled, resembling cracked leather. His eyes were ghostly white and lifeless. But Charlie took more of a notice of the state the house-elf happened to be in: Bubbles of blood belched out of his tiny body, making him shake uncontrollably as his spinal cord was grotesquely sticking out of his back, piercing its skin. All of his fingers were bent oddly, looking broken while one of his ears was missing completely. The other had raw flesh oozing out of it.

"What in the bloody hell," Charlie stated. He felt Hermione shudder beside him for he pulled her against his chest. He wrapped his arms protectively around her body, hugging her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and positioned her head directly under his chin.

"I can't watch," she said quietly against him.

Some of the house-elves were shielding their eyes while others hid behind their neighbors. Oxy, unfortunately, had seemed to wet himself. Through it all, Berry didn't seem the least bit affected.

"Saucey," he thundered but stopped suddenly for the resurrected elf leaned forward, his spinal column ripping further out of its back, and violently vomited black phlegm over his feet. A nearby elf fainted at the sight. Oxy looked to be next. The smell that had risen from the dispelled mucus was horrid.

"Saucey," Berry started once again though now his voice sounded as if he had a stuffed nasal passage for he was pinching his nose closed. "Given the Doctrine of the Federation of House-Elves at Hogwarts, page two-hundred and ninety-seven, passage eighty-eight, paragraph forty-three, and asterisk two, you are to venture beyond the veil!" Berry pointed behind him and between two broad trees, Charlie saw it: An ancient archway that looked as if it might crumble at any second. It was hung with a worn, black curtain that trembled ever so slightly seeming as if it had just been touched. Charlie also thought he heard a mumble of voices from behind it.

As he continued to gaze at it, Hermione gasped so loudly that even Berry's attention was diverted from the revived house-elf passing through the veil.

* * *

 **A/N** : Well, what did you think? Let me know with a review if you wish!


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